


Love Square Love Child

by funkytoes



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien and Marinette are adults now, Angst, F/M, Family Shenanigans, Fluff, Years Later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-09-12 04:51:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 65,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9056101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkytoes/pseuds/funkytoes
Summary: Marinette always thought she would end up with Adrien... eventually. But she can't deny she's also developed feelings for Chat the last couple years. When one night with Chat results in an unplanned pregnancy, Marinette finds herself caught between her duty to Paris and "two" men. Does she try to somehow make things work with Chat? Or does she cling onto the hope that she and Adrien can still someday get together?





	1. The Test

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Miraculous Ladybug.  
> Also a Disclaimer: this is mainly a ridiculous fic that I thought of and isn't really meant to be taken too seriously... it's silly and a little ooc (especially this first chapter) and basically for people who want to read something fluffy and angsty revolving around our favorite love square dealing with something that would probably never work in canon ;)

 

 

She stared the monitor of the stick, breathing out slowly and methodically.

It’ll be okay.

She’s been defeating enemies of untold power since she was fifteen years old. A simple pregnancy test was no big deal. Really.

A _positive_ pregnancy test on the other hand…

“Crap,” she whispered, hunching over and then straightening.

How did this happen?

No, she knew _exactly_ how it happened. One night, after defeating an Akuma, she and Chat were hanging out… one thing led to another and… She closed her eyes. Why him? Why did it have to be him?

She supposed she wouldn’t have cared… that it had been Chat that had gotten her in this situation, had it not been for Adrien. But maybe this was good. She could finally give up on Adrien. Adrien, who she went on one date in high school with, to her utter joy, and then he told her that he was in love with someone else. They remained best friends, of course, and she was, without a doubt, completely and utterly still in love with him, desperately hanging onto the belief that they could, in some way, get together eventually, even after six years of unrequited love.

So much for that.

But she couldn’t be with Chat either. They were partners. They saved the world together. They weren’t _allowed_ to know each other intimately and privately. Chat couldn’t, by the laws of their order, know who she really was. And therefore… how could he take the role of the father of her child? She would have to tell him, of course… but they couldn’t be a _family_.

She swallowed.

This was… after all, _just her luck._

* * *

 

“Hey, Marinette, funny seeing you here,” his always pleasant voice said from the doorway.

Marinette looked up, freezing. Adrien paused, frowning at her. “Oh!” she said, quickly realizing that staring at him, open mouthed, was not, probably, the most inconspicuous thing to do. “Adrien!” she laughed nervously, “What are you doing here?”

Adrien frowned, cocking his head at her. “Is something wrong?” he asked. “You seem a little… out of it.”

“Oh,” she said, forcing a laugh. “N—nothing wrong…”

Adrien slipped into the seat opposite her, raising his eyebrows, concerned. “You can tell me, Marinette. Is… everything okay with you?”

“Oh, I’m _fine_ , Adrien. You know me,” she moved her arms in a marching act, “Always on top of everything and always okay.”

Adrien frowned.

“What about you?” Marinette said, springing out of her seat and walking towards one of the dress forms. She began repining the bodice, though she had completed it hours ago.

“Oh,” Adrien paused, and she risked a look over her shoulder at him. “It’s just… I thought things were going well with… someone, and then she… she just kind of disappeared. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“What?” Marinette frowned. “That’s kind of… rude.”

_Rude?_ A small, nasty voice said in a corner of her mind. _Rude? Like how you slept with Chat and then ignored him for two months? You heaven’t even worked up the nerve to tell him you’re_ ** _pregnant._**

She shook her head hurriedly, trying to clear her thoughts. There was no use thinking about Chat at a time like this. She needed to focus on _Adrien’s_ dilemma. Her own problems weren’t the issue at hand.

“Look,” she said, sitting down again, “I’m… I’m sure that she probably… uh… needs space?”

She gave him a forced smile. How she wished he wasn’t coming to _her_ to talk about this. And the worst part? A small part of her was hoping he’d forget this woman he’s been crushing on since they were fifteen, and would realize that she was here, waiting for him.

But was she?

She slept with Chat… it’s not exactly _cheating_ but… she _was_ pregnant with another man’s baby. Would Adrien be willing to father a child he didn’t… _father?_

And what about Chat?

What was she going to tell him? _How_ was she going to tell him? How could she break the news to him and still keep the integrity of their secret identities? He’d want to be involved… but that was impossible. However much she wished he could be, it… it just wasn’t possible.

But she had to tell him. He deserved to know he was going to be a father. Even if he _couldn’t_ be involved.

“Marinette?”

She looked up, to see Adrien looking at her in concern. “Yeah?” she asked. “What is it?”

“You look… distracted. Is this a bad time? I could come back later…”

“Later?”

“For my fitting… you know… the photoshoot?” Adrien cocked his head to the side. “Is this a bad time?”

“Oh. Oh!” she leapt up. “Of course! The photoshoot. No, now is the… _perfect_ time,” she lied. “I’ll just go get it and everything will be fine and…” she hurried from the room. How could she have forgotten Adrien’s fitting? Why else would he have come to her shop? Sure, they’re friends and all… but as he has officially retired from modeling, after coming into adulthood, except to showcase _her_ male lines, he had no reason to show up at her place of work. Or at least, she told herself that. It was easier than thinking he was there to see _her._ She paused, sighing. Of course he would also come to see her. Adrien was her _friend_.

Just her friend.

A friend that she no longer, in any way, had a chance with.

‘Cause she managed to get knocked up by another guy.

Just her luck.

 

* * *

 

“It’s okay, Marinette,” Tikki said, hovering just above her, as they both gazed at her refection. “You’re doing the right thing.”

“And you still think I can’t tell him who I really am?” Marinette asked.

Tikki sighed. “I wish you could—but this is bigger than you _or_ Chat _or_ your baby. This is the stake of the world at risk. Trust me,” Tikki came to rest on Marinette’s shoulder, putting a small hand against Marinette’s neck. “Trust me, Marinette, I wish things could be different, but… It’s just…”

“Just my luck,” Marinette whispered.

“But still,” Tikki said. “You’re doing the right thing by telling him. He deserves to know…”

“Right,” Marinette said. “Right, no, you’re right. He does. I care about him too much to keep something like this from him. But you know him. He’ll start trying to find out who I am again. Even though we swore we wouldn’t. He’s going to try. And I wouldn’t blame him.”

Nor, she thought, would she be… truly upset, if he found out. But she knew Tikki was right. They had to keep their identities secret. And if Chat showed up, revealing himself, whoever he was, then… she really _didn’t_ have a chance with Adrien.

This was such a giant mess.

She took in a deep breath. “I can do this.”

“That’s right,” Tikki said. “You can _do_ this, Marinette.”

Marinette nodded. “Tikki, spots on!”

She looked at her reflection. There she was, in her Ladybug suit, looking… the same. She turned to the side, running a hand against her stomach. There was, ever so slightly, a gentle curve, the only indication that she was pregnant, and even then, barely discernible. She sighed. At least she had a few months before she couldn’t perform her duties as Ladybug. Sure, it was dangerous… but she was a protector of Paris. She heaved a breath, and headed out.

 

* * *

 

 

“Lady?”

“Hey, Chat,” she said, smiling at him. “Fancy seeing you here.”

He didn’t smile. He merely looked at her, his face unreadable. Unreadable to anyone but her. He stood far from her, as if realizing that something between them was now different.

“Look,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “I know, okay? I shouldn’t have ignored you for the last… two and a half months. It was… well, it was kind of crummy of me. I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you have to say?” he said, his voice steady but with an edge. “You’re ‘sorry’?”

She winced. “Chat…” she said, looking him in the eyes. “I know. I know it was wrong but… I was… when we slept together it was…”

“A mistake?” the edge in his voice was clear now. “Look, I get it. You’re in love with someone else, you’ve said it a million times. But… saving Paris without me? Ignoring me? Refusing to see me for two and a half months? _That isn’t like you,_ Ladybug.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I guess I was just… worried that… things might have happened between us. And I’m not in another relationship but it still kind of felt like… I was cheating.”

He looked stung. And why wouldn’t he?

“I know, that’s horrible to say,” she said. “But it’s true. Anyway, I… I want to mend things between us. Become partners again, at least for a little while.”

“But not…” he began, “You know. You don’t want to _be_ with me.”

She shook her head. “I can’t, Chat. You know that. We _both_ know we can’t be together.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she put her hand up, stopping him. “I have something to tell you, but you have to promise that you understand we can’t be together, and what I’m going to tell you won’t be able to change how things are.”

He closed his mouth, frowning.

She licked her lips worriedly. “I’m…”

He let out a yelp as the ground shook beneath them, causing them to brace themselves to balance as the building quivered and shook.

“What was that?” he asked, looking around. “A new Akuma?”

Disappointed she wasn’t able to get it over with, Marinette nodded. “Just think of it as a chance to get to know who we’re up against…”

“After all this time?” Chat asked skeptically.

“Well finish this talk after we save Paris?” Marinette asked.

Chat looked like he was going to protest, but nodded reluctantly.

“Okay!” Marinette said, “Then let’s go!”

* * *

 

 

“You okay?” Chat asked, reaching for her arm.

“No, I’m fine,” she said, straightening. “I’ve got to go, though… I’m gonna change back soon.”

He heaved a breath. “Lady… I just don’t see why we can’t…”

“ _Chat,”_ she interrupted, a wry smile on her face. “This was the price we agreed to pay when we took on these roles. I don’t want it either.” His eyes widened, and she quickly shook her head. “I mean, I wish we could truly know each other. But…” she looked down at her hand, and looked at him again. “It just can’t be. We are bigger than ourselves. Our _duty_ is bigger than ourselves.”

He didn’t answer.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go,” she said.

She turned to leave, jumping onto the ledge. “Um…” she said, realizing she had yet to say what she had meant to say all along. “And… I’m pregnant… from that night. But uh… it still can’t change anything.”

She threw her yo-yo before he could answer, wishing she could stay, but knowing that she had but seconds before she transformed back, and swung away, feeling as though she had been punched in the gut, instead of doing the punching.

* * *

 To be continued?

As in canon—if ONLY they were able to be honest with each other ;)

Next chapter: the fun begins!

(Also I’m completely aware this story is _completely_ ridiculous, completely ooc, and probably could never work in canon. _Buut_ I figure if Marinette and Adrien can’t figure out in canon who each other are, then this story isn’t entirely far fetched haha. Anyway, this story is mainly for silly giggles and not meant to be taken seriously.)

Thanks for reading!

Let me know if you’d like to read more!


	2. Not Ready

“Are you alright, Marinette?” Tikki asked, as Marinette walked up to the door to her parent’s bakery. Inside she could see them beginning the process of closing the shop—in total bliss as usual. Marinette nodded. “It was… harder than I thought” she said.

“That too,” Tikki said, “But also… it’s probably not good to be saving Paris when you’re pregnant… you should be more careful, Marinettte.”

“I know,” Marinette answered. “But the doctor said I can still go for runs and things like that so… I think I can throw a few punches. I didn’t get hurt.”

“Still, please be careful. You’ve got a precious little life inside you,” Tikki said, flying around Marinette’s middle before settling on her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Marinette said absentmindedly. “I feel bad telling him and then just… disappearing like that.”

“You had no choice,” Tikki reminded her. “You were going to change back into Marinette—and we both know he can’t know that.”

She nodded. “Now…” she breathed out steadily through her nose, “To tell my parents.” She straightened her shoulders, and grasped the handle, stepping in.

“Marinette!” her mother said, smiling at her, “What a pleasant surprise. Any reason you’ve stopped by this late? Want to join us for dinner?”

“That would be great, Mom,” Marinette said, smiling as she kissed her mother’s cheek. Her father wrapped his arms around her, squeezing. “Not so tight!” Marinette squealed, gently keeping her father from squeezing too hard. “I, uh… actually came by for a reason.”

“Oh?” her parents looked at her quizzically.

Marinette smiled at them, a little too widely, causing them to frown at her in confusion. “It can wait until after dinner,” she said through the smile.

Her parents looked at each other, and nodded. “How about you help us finish closing and then we’ll head up,” her mother said, patting her on the arm. Marinette nodded, and set to her old tasks, falling into routine easily.

Dinner went by far too quickly, and when her father asked her what it was she came by to tell them, she found herself wishing she could suggest dessert first, explanations later.

“Well,” she said, wringing her hands. She peered into her lap, where Tikki was hidden from her parents’ view, giving her encouraging nods. “I’m…”

Her mother gasped. “You got hired by that big magazine to do a spread!”

“No, I _wish,”_ Marinette said. “No… it’s… The thing is…”

“What is it, Marinette? You can tell us anything…” her father encouraged.

She winced. Not _everything._ “I’m pregnant!” she blurted out.

Her parents stared at her.

She winced again. “I’m… sorry?”

She watched with trepidation as her parents glanced at each other, before looking back at her, open mouthed. “Marinette…” her mother said. “That’s… that’s wonderful.”

Marinette blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“Did you think we would be upset?” her father said, a smile on his face. “Or worse, be judgmental? Of course we are happy.We always wanted a big family, and grandchildren.” He reached out for her hand, and she put hers in his.

“Oh…” Marinette said shakily. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that, Dad. I… I’ve had a rough couple months…”

“How far along are you?” her mom asked. “Oh, I have the perfect tea… it’s been passed down for generations in our family—I drank it when I was pregnant with you, I’m sure it’s part of why you turned out to be such a vivacious, wonderful, and beautiful young woman,” she added with a wink. “I’ll make some bags up for you. It’s works wonders for morning sickness.”

Marinette nodded. “That would be great, Mom. And I’m about two and a half months.”

“Oh? No wonder you’re not showing yet,” her mom said. “And, if it’s alright to ask, who is the father?”

Marinette froze. Somehow, she had forgotten people might be curious. Of _course_ they’d be curious. But what was she supposed to say? That _Chat Noir_ was the father of her baby? Hell _no_ would anyone believe _that._ “He’s… not in the picture,” Marinette said.

“What?” her father exclaimed. “Why not?”

“It’s… it was just a… one time thing,” Marinette said, deciding to stick as close to the truth as possible. “And… I know he’d want to be involved but… I think it’s probably best if he isn’t. At least, completely,” she added, guilt trickling down her back like nails on a chalkboard.

“Oh… he’s not married, is he?” her mother whispered.

“No!” Marinette said. “ _Mom.”_

“No judgement if he was,” her mother said, putting her hands up. “It would just explain why we haven’t _met_ him yet.”

“He’s not married, that I know of,” Marinette said, frowning. Now that she thought of it, she _didn’t_ know much about Chat Noir. He _could_ be married, or in a relationship, for all she knew. “It’s just… not in the cards. He knows, though. I just came back from telling him.”

Her parents glanced at each other.

“So I guess I’ll be… raising the baby on my own,” Marinette said. “Which is okay, because, hey! I get to be a mom! So… _win…”_ she shook her hands in the air by her head in mock celebration.

“Not on your own,” her dad said firmly. “Your lucky baby is going to have a grandpa and grandma that will love them more than anyone possibly could, besides you, of course.”

She smiled. “Thanks Dad, and Mom,” she said. “I’m starting to feel a little better.”

“Of course. It’s scary,” her mom said, smiling at her. “And just think. You’ll have the most stylish baby in all of Paris.”

* * *

 

“Hey,” Marinette said, putting the coffee down in front of him.

Adrien looked up, dazed. Marinette almost dropped her own coffee. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. There were circles under his eyes. He looked exhausted. And depressed. “What’s the matter?” she asked, sitting down. “Are you okay?”

“I just, uh, got some big news,” he said.

“Oh?” she leaned forward, “Early acceptance into that masters’ program?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he gazed at her. “That would be _good_ news,” he said. “No, this was… I mean, it _should_ be good news. It should be the best news of my life. And yet… I can’t help but feel like total crap.”

“Oh,” she said, frowning. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “I can’t. Not… not really.” He rubbed his nose. “It’s kind of all wrapped up in this huge secret. But, on another note and not quite unrelated, the girl I’ve been chasing after for six and a half years is… well, I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

“Oh,” she said, perking up. She immediately kicked herself mentally. How could she sound and be so excited at the thought of Adrien possibly giving up on his one true love? How despicable was she? She wished she could blame it on hormones, but she knew that pregnant or not, she would have reacted the same way. “I’m so sorry Adrien,” she said, reaching out and clasping his hand. “I mean… that’s… that’s really hard.”

He shrugged. “Now I know how you feel,” he said, giving her a wry smile, and her heart skipped a beat. “I went on a date with you years ago, remember? And then told you I couldn’t date you because I was in love with someone else.”

She drew her hand away, and then reached back out, clasping his again. “It’s alright, Adrien,” she said softly. “You let me down gently. And that was years ago. Things have changed.”

He smiled, and looked at her with an odd expression. “Marinette,” he said. “You know, I really did like you, a lot. In fact, if it wasn’t for… the other person, I would have… I would have really liked dating you.”

She let out a soft breath of air, letting go of hand to take her coffee cup to sip some of the scalding liquid to mask her fluster. Why was he telling her this? Was he switching his sights from this mystery woman to her now that the other woman was out of the picture? Well, too little too late. She was pregnant. With another man’s baby. Adrien would just have to deal with that. But… “Adrien,” she said. “Would you… how do you feel about being a father?”

Adrien coughed, spraying coffee onto the tabletop. “What?”

She grabbed a napkin and wiped up the coffee. “Sorry, that was… inappropriate. You’re obviously way too young to be a father! I won’t ask such any again questions. I mean, any questions such again. I mean—”

“Marinette,” he interrupted, frowning. “Why do you ask that?”

“It’s just…” she lifted up her mug and took another hasty sip. She wanted to tell him. Not because she wanted to know if he was willing to be the father of her child, for _that_ was inappropriate on so many levels the mere thought was shameful.More because… he was her friend. He was an integral part of her life, regardless of whether or not they were romantic or platonic. As her friend, he should be one of the firsts to know that she was about to become a mother. That she was, she supposed, _technically already_ a mother, since the moment she decided to keep the baby.

She swallowed nervously.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said immediately. “Nothing! Ha ha, I’m just… uh… a little nervous because I’m meeting with that company soonabout designing a line for them. So… I’m just… spouting off stuff. I’m… clearly losing it.” She took another few sips of the hot coffee, and winced.

Adrien chuckled. “Oh, Marinette,” he said. “I wish…”

“Hm?” she said, looking at him expectantly.

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “Thanks for meeting with me. I’m… I’m glad we were able to talk.”

“Talk about what?” she asked. “We’ve hardly said anything.”

“Still, I feel a little better,” he stood, coffee in hand. “I’ve got to get to class—my father will kill me if I miss another lecture.”

“Right,” Marinette said. “Me too. Luckily I’m just going to school part-time.”

“Yeah, well, my father insists that I get my master’s degree _at least._ ” He sighed. “Anyway, see you around, Marinette.”

“Bye—Adrien,” she said, waving. She smiled dreamily as she watched him leave, and jumped when she heard her phone buzz. She picked it up, seeing a text from Alya.

_Hey Girl, heard you got news for me? Also, where are you?? We were supposed to be heading into the movie in ten minutes?_

_“_ Oh, crap!” Marinette jumped out her seat, grabbed her coffee and dashed down the street towards the subway.

 

* * *

 

“So—sorry… I’m late…” gasped Marinette, stopping before Alya and leaning over to catch her breath. “I was just getting coffee with Adrien and—”

“What? Adrien?” Alya clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “Girl, when are you going to get _over_ him?”

“Look,” Marinette said, putting up a hand in defense and straightening. “Can we have this conversation after the movie? I’ve been looking forward to it.”

“Alright,” Alya said, “But we better hurry. It started ten minutes ago.”

They entered the theater approximately five minutes later, after Marinette stubbornly bought snacks. As they settled into their seats, Marinette quickly began eating. “Look, I understand that you think I need to move on from Adrien, and actually, I agree,” Marinette whispered.

“ _What?!”_

People hissed and hushed at them from all sides, and Alya continued, quieter, “ _Excuse me?_ Where is the Marinette I know and love who has been holding out on the single thread of a hope that the man of her dreams will realize that she’s the woman of his?”

“Uh… things happened?” Marinette said with shrug.

“Things… _happened?”_ Alya stared at her, mouth agape. “You realize I was joking when is said you needed to get over him? I mean, you do, but… what _happened_?”

“Look, I don’t want to go over it in the movie,” Marinette whispered.

“You started it,” Alya said, which gained her a few more angry hushes.

“Shh,” Marinette said.

“ _Marinette_ ,” Alya said sternly.

“Look, I found something out, and… it’s big. And… it means I’ll probably never get together with Adrien.”

“What is it?” Alya said, sounding as shocked as Marinette expected her to be.

“I’m… I’m pregnant,” Marinette said quietly, eyes glued to the screen.

_“What?!”_

“Look, Lady,” a man behind them said, “Take your soap opera somewhere else—some of us are trying to watch a film.”

Alya turned and was about to give a retort to the man, but Marinette grabbed her and pulled her back down. “We can discuss this after the movie,” she whispered.

“We’re going to discuss this now,” Alya said, standing up and hoisting Marinette to her feet. They walked from the theater.

“You realize we won’t be able to get a refund,” Marinette said, as they arrived on the sidewalk outside. She shivered in the cold.

“Don’t care,” Alya said. “ _You,_ girl, need to spill the beans. Who the _heck_ is the father? Is it Adrien?” she added in a whisper.

“No, cause it it was, I wouldn’t be saying he was no longer an option,” Marinette said, crossing her arms and bouncing on her heels. “It’s… someone else. Hence why I’ve given up on Adrien. Kind of. Sort of. Not really? I don’t _want_ to but… why would he be interested in someone who got knocked up by someone else? I mean, most guys wouldn’t be thrilled to father someone else’s kid in their early twenties.”

Alya stared at her, open mouthed.

“Well?” Marinette said, “Will you say something?”

“I… am processing… this information,” Alya said. “You… who is the father?”

“I can’t say,” Marinette said.

“You don’t know?”

Marinette opened her mouth, and realized that was a far easier answer. “I technically do, he does know, I’m sure he’d want to be involved, cause he’s one of the best people I know, even though I don’t know him that well—I mean, I know him really well, I just…” God, she hated lying. “I mean, I know him, but it won’t work out. It just… won’t.”

“Is he married?”

“Why does everyone assume that?” Marinette said irritably. “No, he’s not, to my knowledge.”

“And… so why won’t he be involved? What kind of douche canoe… give me his name, I’m going to kick his ass—”

“No, no,” Marinette said quickly. “It’s alright. It’s my choice.”

Alya gave her a peculiar look. “Please tell me this isn’t because you’re holding out on the hope of you and Adrien.”

Marinette winced.

“Marinette!”

“It’s not _just_ that,” Marinette said. “That’s really not it, I mean, that’s it a little? I guess? But that’s not the whole picture. It’s far, far more complicated than the simple unrequited love thing going on between me and Adrien, okay? It’s…” she bit her lip as she thought of a way to explain it without giving too many details. “He’s just unavailable. And… it wouldn’t work out.”

“And will I ever meet this… unavailable guy?” Alya asked.

“No,” Marinette said. “I mean, maybe, but probably not. Probably yes…” _Alya has already met him, technically… and runs a successful news business centered around him… and Ladybug,_ Marinette thought miserably.

“You’re not making any sense,” Alya said. “Okay, so, the guy is out of the picture. You’re the mother, your choice. But, does this mean you’ve _completely_ given up on Adrien? Like, he’s not even _in_ the picture?” Alya blinked. “Have you told him? That you’re pregnant?”

“Not… yet,” Marinette said. “I was _going_ to tell him today, but… I couldn’t. I just… I realized that telling him some other guy knocked me up would completely destroy any chance I had with him. I’m just not ready to throw in the towel.”

“Well, it’s been almost seven years,” Alya said. “And with you about to be a single mom… you might have to.”

Marinette glanced down at her hand, before looking back up at Alya. “I’m… I’m kind of scared shitless, Alya. Not about Adrien, but… about being a mom. I mean, I’m in school, I have my own business that’s _just_ starting to gain traction… I’m not _ready_ to be a single mom.”

Alya pulled her into a hug. “You don’t have to be,” she said firmly. “Cause Auntie Alya is going to be there for our little muffin _and_ you the entire time. And who knows? Adrien might just become this little guy’s step-dad.”

Marinette gave out a small laugh. “Maybe,” she said. “Maybe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...
> 
> Good thing Marinette has supportive friends and parents :) 
> 
> Next chapter: Marinette (as Ladybug) meets up with Chat Noir... and they discuss the Big News.. (cue angst).


	3. One Loss for the Price of Two

 

 

“Are you okay, Marinette?” Tikki asked. “You know what you’re going to say?”

“No,” Marinette shook her head. “But I’ll figure it out.”

Tikki rested on her bureau, gazing at her. “I’m so sorry, Marinette. I wish you were able to tell him who you were… and you three could be a family together… but I’m afraid that’s just not…”

“I know,” Marinette said, sitting down in her chair at the table in her apartment. She looked down, wondering when she had begun to show. She was already showing signs—though whether from related or unrelated weight gain, or whether from the baby growing, she didn’t know. But there were other signs as well.

Morning sickness seemed to have a personal vendetta against her.

She was having strong cravings—and no one to fetch them for her at midnight.

Her eyes drifted to the table beside her, at the stack of books her parents had gotten her. She knew they weren’t trying to overwhelm her, but she couldn’t help but feel slightly overwhelmed. Ten books to read, and that was only _ten_ out of how many pregnancy books? Not to mention all the birthing books she wanted to study.

And of course, she couldn’t forget the multitude of books on the actual _raising of children_ part. She sighed. It would be so much easier if she _could_ have Chat around. He would be thrilled to go at midnight to get her ice cream, or fried food…

Or just to tie her shoes once she got too big to do it herself.

“I wish I _could_ tell him,” she said. “I’m not… _ready_ to do this on my own, Tikki. I need someone around to help me. I mean, I know I can do it… I’m not incapable of it. I just… I’d _like_ to have someone around. To share the load. I don’t _want_ to do this alone.”

“I know,” Tikki said. “And I’m sure that Chat would do anything to be there for you.”

Marinette looked at Tikki beseechingly, but the Kwami merely shook her head. “Things can’t change how they have been for millenniums just for you, Mari. I’m so sorry…”

Marinette sighed. “It’s weird… a month ago? I would have given anything for Adrien to be the guy to have gotten me pregnant. And even though I can’t entirely give up on him, now I just want… I don’t know… to give Chat a chance? Does that even make any sense?”

“Of course it does,” Tikki said. “You made a baby with him. That counts for something. And… do you really think you haven’t been falling for him? It’s natural that, after everything, and now with the baby, you’re considering him.”

“But,” Marinette said.

Tikki nodded sadly. “But.”

Marinette groaned. “Well, I can’t be shirking my duties any longer.” She rose from her seat.

“Just promise me that you won’t go fighting crime this time?” Tikki asked, zooming around Marinette’s head. “You need to be careful.”

“I know,” Marinette said. “I’m just transforming so I can talk to Chat.”

“You know, Marinette,” Tikki said, landing on the table beside her. “You could still end up with Adrien. Just because you can’t be with Chat outside of… saving Paris and all, and just because your pregnant, doesn’t mean you won’t find happiness.”

“I know, Tikki,” Marinette said. “I just wish things didn’t get so… complicated. It’s… kind of a pain in the butt.”

“It sure is,” Tikki said with a chuckle.

Her phone buzzed, and Marinette picked it up, seeing a text from—“Adrien?” she murmured.

_Sorry, Marinette, meeting someone in a few. Rain check?_

“Oh,” Marinette said, sinking into her chair. “I forgot I had asked Adrien if he wanted to come over for a movie… Well, just as well he can’t come. I don’t know how long it will last with Chat.”

She frowned. Meeting someone. Did he have a date? For a moment, she felt a pang of jealousy. She quickly berated herself. So what if he had a date? Maybe he got lucky with his mystery woman. That was a happy thought…

“Marinette, are you okay?” Tikki asked.

“I’m fine,” Marinette said. “It’s just… _Chat_ is unavailable because he’s _Chat._ _Adrien_ is unavailable because there’s no way he’d be into me after _nearly seven years_ of _not_ being into me. _And_ most twenty-two year old guys I know wouldn’t be thrilled about becoming a father, let alone raising someone else’s kid. I just can’t see how I could end up with either of them.”

“One thing at a time,” Tikki said. “Don’t worry, Marinette. Things will unfold how they’re meant to. You’ll be fine, I’m sure. Just worry about getting through tonight, and then all you have to worry about is taking care of yourself.”

“And that clothing line,” Marinette said. “And keeping my apartment and studio. And school. And making ends’ meet.”

“Your parents are happy to help, you know that. So are Alya and Nino. And when you _finally_ tell Adrien the about the baby, he’ll help out too.”

Marinette nodded. Suddenly, she remembered that she had yet to text Adrien back. She grabbed her phone and began typing.

_No prob! I’m probably going to be falling asleep soon anyways, so it works out._

Then, for good measure, she added. _Good luck tonight! Hope things go well for you!_

She added a thumbs up emoji.

“There,” she said, putting her phone down on the table. “That wasn’t so hard. See? I’m already getting over him.”

“Just take care of yourself,” Tikki said. “It’s okay to be a little selfish every once in a while. Especially when your’e pregnant.”

Marinette nodded, standing up. “Now to go face the guy who _doesn’t_ deserve me being selfish,” she said dismally. How _was_ she going to face Chat? How was she going to look him in the eye and tell the guy who is in love with her that they can never be together? Even though they’re having a baby together? How will she look him in the face and tell him that, to keep their secret identities safe, he can’t be a parent to his own child? That he can’t raise them?

She didn’t know.

But she would have to figure it out.

No one said being a superhero was easy.

“Tikki, Spots On.”

* * *

 

She heard him before she saw him. Turning, she gazed at him for a moment, her mind a whirl. She wanted to run to him. But she also wanted to run and hide.

 _That isn’t you, Ladybug,_ she told herself. No, Ladybug faces her problems head on. She doesn’t shirk her duties. This was important, and this had to be done. There was no getting out of it. “Hey, Chat,” she said softly. She rose from her seat, and took a step towards him. He didn’t move.

Normally, he was eager for any form of contact between them. Desperate for any indication he was allowed to be intimate with her. On any other occasion, he would have bowed and called her ‘his lady’ by now. He would have made a joke, or better, a pun. He would have joked to cover up his need for her attention and affection.

But now, he merely stood there, gazing at her with an unreadable expression. Unreadable to anyone but her.

She could see the pain flitting beneath the surface.

“So…” she said, licking her lips nervously. “How have you been?”

He let out a short, bark of laughter. Ironic. He fell silent again, staring at her incredulously. “You’re pregnant,” he finally answered.

“Well, that answers how _I’m_ doing,” she said. “But how about you?”

“You’re… pregnant,” he said slowly. “And you’ve been… fighting and…” he trailed off.

“To be fair,” she said. “I didn’t know I was pregnant until about two weeks ago… well, almost three weeks ago now. I’m going to be more careful from now on. I’m going to be taking a… maternity leave,” she said with a shrug. “From fighting crime. I know, I know,” she said wryly, putting her hands up in defense. “Evil doesn’t rest. But… I’ve got a baby to think about now.”

He winced at the words.

“Chat,” she said. “Chat, I—I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have slept with you and then disappeared. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. You didn’t deserve it. And I shouldn’t have waited so long to tell you I was pregnant.”

She waited for a response, but he gave her none.

She wasn’t used to this. She wasn’t used to having to _work_ to get a reaction from him.

“Chat…” she continued. “I’m sorry. That things have to be this way.”

“This way?” he asked, finally speaking. “You mean… like what you said last time? About us not being together? Because you’re in love with someone else?”

“It’s not like that,” she said. “If it were up to me, I’d… maybe see if things between you and I could work—regardless of… of him.”

This did elicit a response. Chat took a few steps forward, his brows furrowing, his mouth parted as if about to speak, his hand stretched out for her. She put up a hand to stop him from coming too close. “But we can’t, Chat,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. “And not just because I’m in love with someone else. Because… because I wasn’t lying when I told you when we hooked up that… that I was falling for you.” She folded her arms across herself, as if protecting herself from her own folly. “I feel so stupid, falling for two people. And now I’ve lost both of them.”

She felt his hands grasp her upper arms gently. “Lady,” he whispered. “You haven’t lost me.”

She looked up.

“We can be… a _family_. If you’ll have me,” he said, the hope in his eyes cutting into her. “I know that’s a lot to ask, after all this time—to forget that other guy and be with me. But…” he glanced at her stomach, and back to her face. “We’re going to be parents.”

“How?” she said. “Have you forgotten what we are? What we swore to do, and keep secret? We don’t have the _luxury_ of being a family, Chat.” She brushed off his hands and walked away from him. “The thing is,” she said, “I’m not ready to forget him. Even though I could never expect him to be with me now, I can’t… I can’t throw the towel in yet.”

She turned to look at him. “I’m sorry, Chat. Even if I _was_ ready to move on from him… _we…_ could never happen. _We_ … we were a mistake.”

He flinched at those words.

“I’m sorry but it’s true,” she said, her eyes stinging. “I wish it wasn’t… but… There’s no way we could be together.”

“But—”

“What we are, what we do, what we represent and protect and have sworn? That’s bigger than any hopes and dreams and wants of us individually,” she said. “I know that’s cruel to say, and doesn’t help things and it breaks my heart to accept it… but the risk is too great.”

She risked a look at him, and took a sharp intake of breath. She wasn’t sure the last time she had seen Chat on the verge of tears. “Will I never be worth it, then?” he asked, his voice breaking. “Am I just not worth the risk?”

She couldn’t stop herself. She took four steps and stopped before him, gazing at him. For a moment, she thought they might kiss. But that would only hurt him more. And she was better than that.

“I’m so sorry, Chat,” she said. “You are far better than I could deserve.”

He swallowed hard, his breathing shaky. “Lady…” he began. “This guy you like—love—if you end up with him… please don’t let him replace me. As the father, I mean. Please, at least, let me be this baby’s father.”

“You are,” she said.

“Like, _really_ be the father,” Chat said. “Go to ultrasounds, and be there at the birth and… changing diapers and putting bandaids on and singing to sleep… and everything.”

“Chat,” she said with a watery laugh. “How can you? If we’re not even allowed to know each other’s names? I can’t exactly give birth in this getup. Let alone live the rest of my motherhood in it.”

His chin shook, and she fought the desire to pull him into her arms. She realized, not for the first time, nor, she hoped, for the last, just how much he meant to her. How fond she was of him. How much she… she cared for him. And not just as one of her best friends. Not just as her crime-fighting partner.

She had feelings for him.

As she watched him fight to gain control of his emotions, at the unfairness of it, at the injustice, she fought the urge to embrace him. To give him what he always wanted. What she found herself also wanting, to some degree, as of late.

“Chat…” she said. “We will never be a normal family. And… you probably won’t get the chance to be a normal dad. But I won’t let any man take your place. I swear. You can trust me on that.”

He nodded. “You know… I always loved being Chat. Right now? I hate it.”

She smiled sadly. “Yeah, I kinda hate Ladybug right now too,” she agreed.

“Don’t say that,” he said, reaching out and touching her cheek, before quickly taking back his hand, as if her skin burned him through his clawed glove. “And don’t forget, Lady, that you haven’t lost me.This other guy— _he_ not be interested anymore. But I’ll never give up.”

 _Thank you,_ she thought, relieved and yet hating that _she_ was the one who had to toughen her heart against what she might truly want.

 

* * *

 

She had to tell him.

She couldn’t keep this secret any longer. She was almost three months pregnant. Keeping a secret like this from _Adrien_ of all people… _that_ was inappropriate.

He was one of her best friends. For almost seven years. He had been there for her through thick and thin, and she for him. The fact that he was one of the last to hear the news… she winced, before looking back at her reflection, returning her attention to the task at hand.

“I think you’ve redone your eyeliner enough times, Marinette,” Tikki said from her position on Marinette’s shoulder.

“I know it’s completely shallow of me,” Marinette said, gazing at her appearance with scrutiny. “But a small part of me wants to look _really_ sexy so he doesn’t immediately write me off as… you know… the knocked up friend he can never be with anymore.”

“A ‘small’ part?” Tikki asked, raising an eyebrow as Marinette took her and placed her on the dresser. Tikki watched as Marinette changed her scarf twice, and then turned to the side, pressing a hand against her stomach.

There was a definite curve. She had, of course, coughed it up to her cravings and increased appetite. Cravings that until two or so weeks ago, she had just thought were due to some weird atmospheric change in the weather. Now she had a name to the belly.

A baby.

And not a _food_ baby after all.

She sighed. “I really don’t have a chance with him anymore, do I?’

“Don’t say that, Marinette,” Tikki said encouragingly. “You might! Remember what Alya said? Adrien could become your baby’s stepdad.”

“Maybe…” Marinette said. “But I promised Chat I wouldn’t let Adrien take his place as the father… I swore I would keep that promise. Is it… so, so, _so_ horrible of me that I still want to get together with Adrien?”

“Of course not,” Tikki said. “You’ve been pining after him for more than seven years! It’s fair to want to explore that. Or at least, have proper closure so you’re not always wondering… ‘what if’.”

“You’re so smart, Tikki,” Marinette said, smiling at the Kwami. “So you think, maybe… I should… try the pink scarf I made last week—”

“No!” Tikki interrupted, just as Marinette was reaching for said scarf. “You’ll be late—and with you being pregnant now, you can’t just transform into Ladybug and yo-yo your way there as quick as can be.”

“Right,” Marinette said. “I guess I look okay… this sweater is pretty baggy so I don’t look as big as I feel.”

“You better hurry,” Tikki said, slipping into the folds of Marinette’s scarf. “You don’t want to be late—this is a very, _very_ important conversation.

* * *

 

The trouble was… she needed some way to hide _when_ she got pregnant. News was already spreading that Ladybug was taking a maternity leave. Rumors were already spreading that Chat Noir was the father. People might finally put two and two together if they find out that she happened to be as far along as Ladybug was.

She was just going to say that the doctor said she was three and a _half_ months pregnant. Only Alya and her parents knew differently.

She heard footsteps, and turned to see Adrien walking towards her. He looked worse than the last time she had seen him. “What’s wrong?” she asked, as he handed her a tea. She took a sip and sighed contentedly. She sat down on the bench. Adrien sat down beside her. “Pull another all-nighter?” she asked. “Oh! How did it go? With that date you had?”

He looked at her, surprised. “What date?” he asked.

“You—the other night?” she said. “You know, you were going to come over to my place to watch a movie and you had to do a rain-check cause you were going out with someone?”

“Oh,” he looked like he had just been punched in the gut. “No, it… it definitely wasn’t a date. It was actually kind of… horrible.”

“Oh,” Marinette frowned, worry seeping into every pore. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really—or at least, I can’t,” he said, drinking some of his coffee.

“And…” Marinette said. “Does it have to do with your mystery woman?”

He glanced at her. “Yeah,” he said.

“So… it’s over, between you two?”

“It never really _was_ between us, honestly,” Adrien said. “I never really had a chance with her. But… I’m not giving up. I can’t give up on her. Especially not now.”

“Oh,” Marinette felt her stomach lurch, and for a moment, she thought her morning sickness had returned for the day. “Oh…” she said. “That’s… persistent.”

 _This must be how Chat feels_ , she thought with a sigh. She put on a smile, once she gave herself a moment to feel bad for herself. “Anyway, good for you for not giving up on true love! I believe you can do it.”

He shrugged, but smiled at her. “So,” he said, “What did you want to meet here for? You said you had something exciting to tell me?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said. “I have some good news. Kind of. Kind of like—depends on your definition of good news? Like… I’m only _just now_ starting to see it as good news. To be honest I wasn’t sure for awhile, and now…. Well, I’m not sure _you’ll_ think it’s good news—but… actually, you might, but I’m not sure that—”

“Marinette?” Adrien interrupted, smiling. “It’s okay. I’m sure if you think it’s good news, that I will too.”

“Oh, right,” she laughed nervously. “Well, here goes. The news is… well, the things is… well…”

“Just… breathe,” he said.

She took in a deep breath, and breathed out slowly. “I’m pregnant.”

She stared directly ahead of her, at the tree, waiting for an answer, some kind of response, but none came. Finally, she sneaked a look at him. He was staring blankly at her, his mouth open slightly in surprise. “Adrien?” she asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Um,” he blinked a couple times, still looking dazed. “What?”

“Yeah, so, I’m pregnant,” she said. “The father is this guy… that I was kind of seeing for a bit… Yeah… I’m about three and a half months along.

“Oh,” he said. “And… who exactly _is_ the father?”

“Oh, this guy… he’s… not going to be…”

“Not going to be what?” Adrien asked.

“ _Well,”_ Marinette said, cocking her head and squinting at the tree, trying to think of way to say it without demonizing Chat. “How do I put this…”

“Marinette,” Adrien said, his voice careful. “Tell me this guy didn’t ditch you.”

“What? No!” she said quickly. “No, he’s a really good guy, he’s just—“ she moved her hands frantically, feeling panicked that she somehow had gotten herself into this conversation without a proper exit plan. How she would explain to people why no one would meet the father?

“So, why isn’t he going to be involved?” Adrien asked, his voice rising. “I mean, if _I_ were the father—”

“What?” Marinette asked breathlessly, turning to look at him with saucer shaped eyes. Suddenly her mind was enveloped in an alternate reality where _Adrien_ was the father of her child and they were getting married and—

“I mean,” Adrien said, coloring slightly. “I mean, if I had gotten someone pregnant, I would absolutely, no questions asked, be there the whole time. I would step up and prove myself and… I wouldn’t shirk my responsibilities and I would…” he heaved a breath after running out of air.

“Well, that’s because you’re a really great guy, Adrien,” she said.

“And this guy isn’t?” Adrien asked. “What’s his name? Need me to kick his ass for you?”

“Oh, trust me, that’s not necessary,” Marinette said, chuckling at the thought. _There is no way Adrien would be able to kick Chat’s ass…_

Adrien stared moodily into space. “You know,” he said, “I’m kind of in the same boat.”

“What, you got knocked up too?” Marinette joked.

“No,” he shook his head, not even cracking a smile. “I…” he froze, as if suddenly reconsidering what he was about to say. He seemed to follow through with that decision, because he said, turning to face her. “Well, I won’t be the baby’s father, but I _can_ be there for you as a friend. Uncle Adrien will be at every birthday, piano recital, and bandaid ceremony.”

She laughed. “Thanks, Adrien,” she said. “That means a lot.”

“What are friends for?” he asked, with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

Friends.

Well, that wasn’t so bad.

* * *

 

 

She heard the door open, and looked up, expecting to see Alya or Adrien, but instead saw someone whom she was rather hoping she wouldn’t see for at least ten more years. At least.

“Well, well, well, _Marinette_ ,” Chloé said, giving her an appraising look. “Heard you have some happy news.”

“Chloé,” Marinette said carefully, standing up and raising an eyebrow.

“So… it’s true… you _are_ pregnant,” Chloé said, gazing at Marinette’s midriff. Marinette was currently wearing a turtleneck shirt that clung to her, making the curve of her stomach more prominent than usual.

“Yeah, I am,” Marinette said, crossing her arms.

“Well, who’s the father?” Chloé said, taking a few steps into the studio. She looked around with a disdainful look. “If you say Adrien, then I’m—”

“So what it _was_ Adrien?” Marinette asked, irritation flaring up like a formally dormant disease.

Chloé turned her disdainful look to Marinette. “Adrien is a friend of mine, it would be… irresponsible not to be looking out for him.”

“Oh, and me being pregnant with his child would be… what… bad for his social status?” Marinette asked, one of her eyes twitching.

“Irredeemably so,” Chloé said, looking around the shop with a sour look on her face, as if she were viewing a decaying carcass. “And I’m sure his father would agree.”

Marinette found it difficult to see out of her left eye due to its increased twitching. “Well,” she said shortly. “That’s too bad.”

Chloé turned to look at her in horror. “So Adrien _is_ the father?”

“That is… what it would seem… at the present… turn of events… in this conversation…” Marinette manage through clenched teeth, blinded by anger that usually accompanied Chloé’s presence. “So, take _that_ and suck on it.”

Chloé pursed her lips. “We’ll just see about this,” she said. “Mr. Agreste is going to be _very_ disappointed.” She turned on her heels and headed for the door. ‘Oh, and Marinette… I’d choose a different career path if I were you. I can’t imagine anyone with even the poorest sense of fashion would want to wear this garbage.” She left the store with a cackle.

Marinette watched her go, resisting the urge to retort loudly—but the memory of what she had just said came crashing down onto her. She had just told Chloé that she was pregnant with Adrien’s baby. Not intentionally, and not in definitive words. But she hadn’t disagreed with Chloé, and Chloé had obviously interpreted it that way.

“Oh… crap…” Marinette said, sinking into her chair and running her hands down her face. “This is bad.”

“Yeah,” Tikki said, peeking out from under a hat. “Yeah, Marinette. This is _not_ good.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued…
> 
> Next Chapter: We see things from Adrien’s point of view! Poor guy has it rough…
> 
> Also disclaimer: I’m not confident at writing emotionally charged scenes, so I hope the scene with Chat and Ladybug wasn’t too awkward :)
> 
> See you soon!


	4. A Wallowing Kitty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit sappy, cause Adrien is feeling a bit morose (wallowing. He’s wallowing.) ((understandably))

Adrien glowered at the plate sitting before him. He was a grown man. In his _twenties._ And yet his father insisted that he live at home.

If he thought, in any way, that his father was attempting to bond with him, or relate to him in some way, he wouldn’t be so opposed to it. In fact, he would have been thrilled beyond belief, to have a free place to live during his university years.

But as it was, he knew that the only reason his father insisted he live in the mansion was because his father wanted to keep an eye on him, and make sure he did not deviate from the lifelong plan Gabriel Agreste had for his son.

It made balancing University as well as his duties as Chat a little difficult. Thankfully there were other superheroes in Paris now—but even so, with Ladybug inactive… it was getting rather tedious to take her place. Ladybug was, after all, irreplaceable. Without her, there was very little one could do.

And not just on the streets of Paris fighting crime. Ladybug was…

He sighed, putting his fork down and gazing morosely at his omelet. Ladybug was perfect.

Sure they’d bump heads and disagree. But that is what he _liked_ so much about her. They could call each other out, disagree, even fight to some degree, and resolve their issues instead of letting it divide them, and move on, better for it. Until now…

This was something he didn’t know they _could_ recover from. 

She was right, of course, that they couldn’t know each others’ identities. After all, they agreed to keeping secrets by accepting their Miraculous’. But he never expected so much pain to come from such a promise. Not just because he couldn’t be with Ladybug, not conceivably, anyway, but that he and Ladybug and their _baby_ could never be a family together. And even if he couldn’t be with Ladybug, he wanted to be in his child’s life. In the end, he supposed, that was what was so hard about all this. He _could_ conceive giving up on a relationship with Ladybug. Especially since she seems so opposed to one. But their _baby?_

A _baby._

He was going to be a _father._

He took a bite, not bothering to wait for his own father to arrive.

The thought of _babies_ led his mind to another woman in his life.

Marinette.

Adrien frowned, wondering who the father of _her_ child could be. How had never met the guy before? How, and why, would Marinette hide from everyone, even him, that she was seeing someone? Unless it was merely a one-time thing…

But she had insisted that she knew the man. That she had feelings for him. _That_ implied some form of relationship. How could he have been so blind to the fact that she was seeing or dating someone? Why would she keep it a secret?

And _why_ was he feeling jealous of the man? Jealousy at the thought of someone else being in Marinette’s life? Of being the father of her child?

He winced.

 _Stop being such an ass,_ he told himself. _You already got_ ** _one_** _woman pregnant, you don’t have to feel jealous because you didn’t knock up_ ** _two._**

Why did he have to have feelings for two women?

Both of which were now, at least realistically… not available?

“Adrien,” came his father’s short greeting, as the man walked into the room and sat down opposite Adrien, putting him at the other end of the long table, at the furthest possible distance.

“Father,” Adrien replied, just as shortly.

They began to eat, and after a moment, his father spoke. “You seem to be down in spirits the last couple months… has anything happened?”

Adrien looked up, shocked that his father had even noticed his change in mood. “How did you know?” he asked.

“Your grades are dropping,” his father replied.

Adrien scowled. Of course. _That’s_ what his father was worried about. His _grades._ Not _him._ His phone buzzed, and he glanced at it out of the corner of his eyes. A text from Nino.

**_DUDE_ **

“Yeah, well,” Adrien said, focusing on his father. “Things went south with someone I like.”

“Oh?” Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “It’s probably for the best. You don’t need any… distractions. Exams are coming up after all.”

Adrien’s mouth twitched into a frown.

His phone buzzed again. Another text from Nino.

**_WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY ANYTHING_ **

Adrien frowned. He picked up his phone, ready to respond to Nino, to ask _what was going on_ , when another text came in.

**_I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS BRO_ **

Adrien’s frown deepened. What was Nino going on about?

“Adrien,” his father began. “I wished to speak to you about your friend, Marine—”

Adrien’s eyes widened as a barrage of texts starting pouring in, his phone vibrating and chirping at an alarming rate.

“What is wrong with your phone?” his father asked, brows furrowing.

Adrien tried to see a clear understanding through the wall of ‘Congrats!’ and “Was rooting for you two!’ that were coming in, and a rather lewd text from Kim about virility.

“What the—“Adrien stared as the texts continued to arrive, only barely slowing in speed.

“Adrien, this is important,” his father interrupted.

“I don’t know _why_ so many people are texting me,” Adrien defended. “I’m not sure what’s going on—”

“Not that,” his father interrupted. “I wanted to talk to you about Marinette. A mutual friend of ours has informed me that she is with child.”

“Just say ‘pregnant’, Father, this isn’t Eighteen Fifty,” Adrien responded, still staring at the texts. Did he just catch Marinette’s name a few times? More than a few times… “But what _about_ Marinette?” he asked, looking up at his father, a nasty feeling sinking down his back, pooling into his stomach.

“Ms. Bourgeois has informed me that Ms Dupain-Cheng has told her that _you_ are the father of her child,” his father answered, gazing at Adrien with a scrutinizing gaze.

“It…” Adrien’s eyes widened. It suddenly all made sense… The texts… why Nino was horrified he hadn’t said anything about it… Everyone thought _he_ wast he father of Marinette’s baby. “It’s not true!” he blurted out. “Trust me, Father, I _couldn’t_ be Marinette’s baby’s dad. That would…” the texts had ceased, much to his relief. “That would be biologically impossible. Marinette and I have never…”

But why would Marinette proclaim that he was the father? That wasn’t like Marinette… spreading lies or twisting the truth about people was Chloe’s modus operandi.

He needed to talk to Chloe.

 ** _DUDE_** _-_ Came another text from Nino. Then, **_Are you two going to, like, get married or something?_**

Adrien groaned. “Okay, look,” he said standing. “I’m going to be late for class, but I’ll handle this.” He hurried to the door, and paused. “Just… Marinette’s baby isn’t mine. Trust me: biological impossibility.”

His father nodded, but did not look quite convinced.

“It’s probably just Chloe being Chloe,” Adrien said, standing and leaving his breakfast, heading to the door. “I’ll talk to her and get this sorted out.”

“See that you do, then,” his father answered as Adrien reached the door. “Before this complicates further.”

“Right,” Adrien said, absentmindedly, reaching the foyer where Nathalie was waiting for him.

“Good morning, Adrien,” Nathalie said, handing him his saddlebag. “I hope you have an excellent day.”

“Thanks, Nathalie,” he replied, not paying her much heed, taking the saddlebag and slinging the strap over his shoulder. He walked the front door of Agreste Mansion and waited for the car to be brought around. It was tedious, still getting driven around like some kind of celebrity. He couldn’t wait until he graduated and his father would let him have a more independent life. In that way, he was jealous of _Marinette._ Her parents were supportive and welcoming, as well as encouraging her to be independent and figure things out for herself.

As he got into the car, he gave the instructions to be taken to class. He got out his phone, and with quick and shaky fingers, he texted Chloe:

**_What the hell?_ **

Sighing with irritation, he leaned back in his seat. Why would Chloe tell his father he was Marinette’s baby’s father? And why would she tell everyone else? Chloe has never made her… attraction to him a secret, though it seemed to lesson in recent years, much to his relief.

His phone buzzed with an incoming text, and he grabbed it.

 ** _I only told your father, Boo_** _-_ she had texted, with three kissing emojis.

He frowned. He texted back, feeling numb with anxiety from his fingertips to his upper arms:

**_I’m not Marinette’s baby’s dad._ **

There was a long pause before her response came in:

**_Well, tell that to_ her.**

He stared. Did Marinette _tell_ her that _he_ was the father of her child? That didn’t make any sense. There was no way Marinette would do something like that. Chloe must be mistaken. He was about to text back, when his phone rang, causing him to jump in his seat.

It was Nino.

Surprised, for Nino rarely called people unless he could actually see their face through the screen, and, like most in their generation, preferred texting to even that, he answered it.

“Nino—”

“ _The hell, Dude?”_ came Nino’s frazzled voice. “ _You knock up Marinette and then you—like—freaking don’t tell me? Don’t talk about it? Like… that’s not like you, ditching—”_

“Nino, hold on—”

“ _I mean, like, bro, I thought like for_ ** _sure_** _you’d tell me the moment you and Mari—”_

“Nino!” Adrien hissed into the phone, feeling weak with anxiety. “I’m not her baby’s dad.”

A long silence stretched, an for a moment, Adrien wondered if Nino had dropped his phone into a ditch.

“ _Oh,”_ came his friend’s response. _“Um… then Chloe is wrong?”_

“Did Chloe tell you?” Adrien groaned. “She said she only told my father.”

 _“Well, she kind of vague tweeted about it,_ ” Nino said. “ _It was obvious she was talking about Marinette. And you.”_

“And you believed her?” Adrien asked incredulously. “ _Chloe?”_

 _“Look, man, if you’re knocking any girl up my money has always been on Marinate,_ ” Nino replied. _“I’ve been expecting you two to get together since you guys were in High School.”_

“Nino,” Adrien said plaintively. “Do you really think I would hide something like being a father…” he paused, wincing as guilt ached deep in his gut, “From my best friend?”

There was a pause, after which Nino said, “ _Yeah, true. It’s just, Chloe’s gossip was so on the mark this time it was hard not to believe it was true. Not to mention I’ve been expecting something like this for a while…”_

Adrien groaned, covering his face with a hand. “This is just my luck,” he muttered.

 _“I’ll do some damage control,”_ Nino assured him. _“Text people, tell them it was a mistake. You talk to Chloe. Get her to tweet that she was lying. And… uh, talk to Marinette. Cause, like, Bro, she would have heard by now.”_

Adrien’s hand dropped away form his face. That was true. Marinette _would_ have heard by now. His eyes widened. He had to get to her and fix this before she freaks out and something happens to the baby.

“Nino, thanks,” he said. “I’ve got to go—I’ll talk to Chloe, see if she can tweet saying she was wrong, and… I’ve got to talk to Marinette.”

 _“Yup,”_ Nino said. “ _Good luck, Bro_.”

Adrien hung up the phone, and let out yet another groan of frustration. _Luck?_

He was the unluckiest guy in Paris.

* * *

 

“Adrien!” she said, looking up at him in surprise. She stood up, her phone in her hand. She looked like she had just been reading something unpleasant. “I can explain—and… don’t you have a class right now?”

She looked somehow different. He wasn’t sure what it was. She seemed to be practically… _glowing._ It must be the pregnancy. His eyes drifted down to her midsection, where he could see a slight curve against her sweater. She was starting to show. He wondered miserably if Ladybug was as well.

“Uh, Adrien?” Marinette wrung her hands, giving him a pained look. “I assume you’re here because of Chloe…”

“Yeah,” Adrien said. “I am.” He stepped into the studio, closing the door behind him. “I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding… after all, this isn’t the first time Chloe has…” he fought for a tactful way to say it, “Used social media without thinking of the consequences. But… she told me you told her specifically that I was the father of your baby.”

He waited for a response, and seconds stretched on until he didn’t think he could bear it anymore. Just when he was about to speak, to ask her again if it was true that she had lied, Marinette finally spoke.

“I didn’t… mean to,” she said, wincing. She sat down heavily in her seat. “And, _technically_ , I never said it outright. I just didn’t correct her when she assumed.” She paused, and said, a little more confidently, “I did encourage the idea, though. I mean, I didn’t correct her when I should have. That’s my fault, and I take responsibility for it.”

“Why?” Adrien sat down across from her at her work table,“Would you encourage her, I mean. You know Chloe is a gossip. I mean, of all people, to let _her_ assume something like that…”

“Ugh, I know,” Marinette groaned. “Half of Paris probably knows now.” Her face fell into her hands. “I’m sorry, Adrien. This is all my fault and it’s such a mess…”

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’ve already begun correcting people, and Chloe has already tweeted saying she was joking. Which she probably was to begin with.”

“It’s _not_ okay,” she said, lifting her head to look at him. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into it. I should have told her straight up that you weren’t the father. She just… she was goading me, you know? Talking about how horrible for you it would be if _I_ was pregnant with your child.”

“What?” Adrien frowned. “Why would that be horrible for me?”

Marinette shrugged. “I just… was embarrassed because…” she looked at him out of the corners of her eyes, studying him carefully. She seemed to think better of whatever she was going to say, and instead said brightly, “Do you want something to drink? Or eat? We can go up to my apartment and get something.”

“Sure,” he said. “I’m skipping class today anyway, so I have the time.”

“Is that smart?” she asked with a lopsided grin, as she walked to the door and locked it. They then turned and headed towards the back room, where a staircase led to the upstairs apartment.

“Want a hot cocoa?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll help.”

He took two mugs out of her cabinet, and watched as she placed the milk in the pot on the stove. “How have you been feeling?” he asked her. “You know, with the pregnancy?”

“I’m feeling okay, actually,” she said. “I’m… you know… feeling pretty, kinda…” she shrugged her shoulders. “It’s still weird, you know? The idea that I’m going to be a _mom_ in a couple months.”

 _Tell me about it,_ he thought. “And the dad still won’t be around?”

She sighed, pausing her act of placing the cocoa powder in the mugs. “No,” she said softly. “I wish he could be… but… I don’t know,” she said with a shrug, “Maybe it’ll work out, and he can be involved. I hope so…”

She quickly returned to scooping the cocoa into the mugs.

“I hope so too,” he said softly.

She nodded. “It’s just… it’s hard, you know,” she said quietly. “I feel like… I’m alone…”

“Hey,” he said quickly, walking over to her and pulling her into a hug. “It’ll be okay. Because whether or not it works out with this guy, _I’ll_ be here for you. Like I told you when you told me you were pregnant, I want to be the perfect uncle for this kid. So… whether you need someone to massage your back, or get you take-out at midnight—Uncle Adrien’s here.”

“Why, though?” she mumbled into his sweater.

He opened his mouth to answer, but decided against it. It would cause too many questions. If Marinette knew he had gotten someone pregnant, she’d want to know who it was. Why he wasn’t being involved in his own child’s life, but was for her’s. And she’d want to meet his kid.

That would only complicate things.

He let go of her, realizing they had embraced too long, and smiled hesitantly down at her.

“To be honest,” she said, “Part of the reason I’m so torn up about all this is because…”

He waited patiently for her to continue, but her attention was diverted to the milk on the stove. “Crap!” she muttered, walking over and pulling the boiling milk off the burner. “I don’t think it’s curdled yet…” she murmured. “Well, we can start a new batch.”

“What were you going to say?” he asked.

She stiffened, and then turned to look at him. “Adrien,” she said. “I only say this because I know there’s no way anything is happening between us.”

His eyes widened. Was she about to say what he _thought_ she was about to say?

“ _Istillhavefeelingsforyou_ ,” she said quickly, her words rushing together. She sighed, and after a few moments of long silence, she spoke. “I know, I know. It’s inappropriate. You’re with someone else—or wanting to be with someone else, and I’m pregnant with someone else’s kid and kind of wanting to be with him… it’s so complicated. But…” she took in a deep breath, gathering her resolve, “I had to say it. I’ve had a major crush on you since High School and… if I’m going to move on I need closure. So… I still love you, Adrien. I mean, I’m in love with you. I mean… well,” she straightened her back, staring intently at a cabinet handle a few cabinet doors away from him. “I wanted you to know. You can ignore what I just said if you’d like… there’s no need for it to change anything. I just… feel like I can finally get over you if I just… acknowledge my feelings. So… there they are.”

He stared, his mouth slightly agape. She turned her head to peer at him, and blinked in surprise at his dumbfounded expression. Shock settled jarringly down his back. “Oh,” he said dumbly, his mind blank of any coherent thought. “Um… okay.”

“Yeah,” she said, staring at her hands. “Sorry.”

He opened his mouth to answer, to tell her that she had nothing to be sorry for—but he was feeling a strange sensation in his gut. A kind of twinge—a form of… happiness?

_Marinette had feelings for him._

_Marinette was in_ **_love_ ** _with him._

And what was worse, her saying it out loud made him realize.

“Oh, _shit,”_ he muttered, just quiet enough so she couldn’t hear him.

This was going to _complicate_ things.

“I’ve got to, uh, go,” he said, moving quickly towards the exterior exit.

“Go?” she asked, starting after him in surprise.

“Yeah, class—just realized it was super important to be there… I have to uh… think—about stuff—you know, stuff… like… exams…” he was babbling. God, he was _babbling._ “I’ll make sure Chloe doesn’t do something like this again, and get this all settled—about me not being your baby’s father.” His face was burning, and he hurried to the door, tying his scarf tighter around his neck. “I’ve got to get to class. Anyway, thanks for the chat, Marinette.”

“Right…” she said slowly, staring at him as he walked out of her studio. He hurried into his car, and instructed the driver to bring him to the university.

He couldn’t believe it.

_He was in_ **_love_ ** _with_ **_two_ ** _women._

* * *

 

He raised his hand, and hesitated. Then he knocked, twice in quick succession. He waited, and he could hear soft footfalls on the other side of the door. It opened, and Marinette stood in the frame, smiling at him.

Not for the first time in his life he was struck with how pretty she was, the light from within her apartment creating a sort of halo around her body. For a brief moment, he wondered dumbly if the reason why the father was unknown to everyone was because there _was_ no father, and that Marinette was the virgin mother herself incarnate.

She smile widened at his prolonged staring, and she motioned for him to come in. He stepped into her apartment, blinking away idiotic thoughts, and handed her the package he was carrying.

“Oh!” she said, taking it. “Salted caramel ice cream! How did you know…?”

“You texted me a few days ago saying you were craving salty-sweet,” he said with a shrug. “So it can be three in the morning, but all you need to do is text me, and I’ll get it. No matter what it is.”

“Adrien,” she said softly, the corners of her lips tugging upwards. “You’re too kind to me.” She walked towards the couch. “I’m going to eat this whole thing, by the way,” she called over her shoulder. “So why don’t you see what you want from the fridge.”

“I’m fine, actually,” he said, hesitating, before walking over and sitting down on the couch beside her. After a moment, he scooted about a foot farther down the length of the couch, creating a comfortable distance between them.

“So,” she said, sucking on the spoon she had gotten on her way to the couch. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Did you talk to Chloe? Is she _so_ happy that she caught me in such an embarrassing lie? Oh, she’s going to lord that over me always…” she hung her head in humiliation.

“Hey, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Adrien said. “Honestly, with how easily everyone seemed to accept it, I think it was probably pretty likely.”

She looked up, a strange look in her eyes. “Right,” she said. “I keep getting asked if we’re going to be tying the knot,” she laughed. “I have to keep putting out fires all day.”

He allowed himself to laugh, but quickly sobered. “Marinette, were you telling the truth earlier? About being in love with me?”

“Oh,” she said blushing. “I… I’ve been really hormonal lately and—”

“No, don’t apologize,” he said quickly. “Actually, I wanted to be the one apologizing. I… feel really bad about… how I’ve been acting around you the last couple years. I thought you had moved on from me and didn’t realize that when I talked about the other person, it probably made you feel… crummy,” he said. “It was insensitive, and I should have realized you still had feelings for me and—”

“Adrien.” Her voice was quiet. “It’s okay. I should have said something before now. And… I know how you feel. I’ve done similar things. You aren’t the only person I’ve had feelings for,” she said, placing a hand on her stomach.

“Right,” he said, looking down and quickly back up at her face. “Which reminds me… I’ve… I think, Marinette… And when I say this, I mean it in a… _closure_ kind of way. Like you mentioned before. A… getting everything out in the open and not having any secrets—”

“If you’re going to tell me that you have feelings for me as well,” Marinette interrupted gently, “Then… please… you don’t have to say it. I understand. And I understand that nothing can happen between us. But thank you, for being honest. I’m glad to know I _might_ have, once upon a time, had a chance.”

He watched as she turned her head downwards, studying the tub of ice cream, her bangs shadowing her face from his view.

She took another bite, and swallowed, finally looking up. “Thank you for telling me, Adrien. I feel like… I too can have closure now.” She smiled a sad, but genuine smile. “It sucks, being in love with two people, doesn’t it?”

He gave out an awkward laugh. “Yeah, it does.”

They sat there, not quite looking at each other, their cheeks rosy.

Then Marinette stuck out her hand. “Friends still?”

He gazed at her hand. “Always, Marinette,” he said, taking it and holding it gently.

As their hands separated, he felt something strange in his chest. A sort of longing. He didn’t want this to be closure. He didn’t _want_ to give up on Marinette. Somehow, he had gotten used to her being his friend, and also the possibility that if things truly could not work out with Ladybug, perhaps they could work out for him and Marinette. But that was selfish, to leave her hanging on a half-chance. And she was pregnant with someone else’s kid, someone she clearly still had feelings for.

And he didn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize his friendship with the irreplaceable woman sitting beside him.

He might always hold onto the hope that he could be a family with Ladybug, or at least, even if a relationship didn’t work out with Ladybug, that they could still be… _parenting_ partners, not just crime fighting partners, even if he knew it was far fetched at best. But for now… he knew he would be there for Marinette—as her friend, and as her baby’s favorite uncle.

And that didn’t seem so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued…
> 
> It’s really too bad that Adrien and Marinette are both in love with two ~~~different~~~ people, ain’t it ;D
> 
> So sorry about the delay! I was a bit nervous to post the chapter because I wasn’t that confident writing from Adrien’s pov, so I’d just like to reiterate that this story is entirely for entertainment and fun and cliche-nonsense, and not meant to showcase perfect or “in character” writing :)
> 
> I’ll try to get Chapter 5 up quicker! Next Time: Marinette has an appointment with her doctor, and receives some ironic news… 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> See you soon!


	5. Surprises and Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see!
> 
> Just wanted to apologize for how late this chapter is… I started a new job on top of a bout of not feeling well, so it’s been a little difficult to find the time/energy to work on updates. Things are settling down so hopefully I’ll be able to (attempt) a more regular update schedule (again)!
> 
> Also I deeply apologize if I have yet to reply to your comment. I might not get a chance to reply to every comment going forward mainly because I want to prioritize getting chapters out, but I’ll try my best to reply!
> 
> Thanks so much for being so patient!

 

“Oh. Shit, man,” Nino said, his voice bland in his shock.

“Yup…” Adrien agreed, emphasizing the word and heaving a sigh as he did.

“And… who is this chick? Think you could clue me into the details, Bro?” Nino asked, lifting his drink and taking a sip. “I mean, you’ve been chasing after her for like… _seven years_.”

Adrien frowned. _I don’t even know her name… after all, ‘Ladybug’ could hardly be her given name,_ he thought, realizing just how messed up his current situation was. He had spent the last seven years with Ladybug—and yet he knew nothing about her. Not who she _really_ was.

“Can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were seeing someone—and now she’s pregnant…” Nino mused thoughtfully. “What was it like? Finally hooking up with her?”

“Amazing,” Adrien said glumly.

Nino turned to give him an appraising look. “Yeah, sure sounds like it.”

“Well, the night itself was incredible,” Adrien said. “And then… she disappeared for like two and a half months—and then when she _did_ show up, she said she was pregnant and disappeared again. But the worst part is the fact that I can’t even be in the baby’s life. Not… not _really.”_

“Shit,” Nino said. “That sucks, Bro.”

“Yeah, No. Shit,” Adrien said. “It’s just… I can’t believe it. You know? That this… happened this way. It’s like…” he reached out a hand for some invisible answer. “I had everything within reach…” he dropped his hand into his lap. “And then it all disappeared. And she wants to be with this other guy… and it kills me to think that this… this _guy_ , whoever he is, might be the dad of my kid. Emotionally. Sure, the kid will be mine biologically… but what is genetics compared to the person who raises you?”

“Bro, it _all_ sucks, man,” Nino said, clapping him on the back. “Speaking of pregnancies, did you figure things out with Marinette?”

“Yeah,” Adrien nodded, raising his eyebrows. “What are the chances that the two girls I like get pregnant. One by me—can’t be with her. One by someone else—and we agree to be friends forever. I’m going to die alone.”

“You’re only twenty-two,” Nino chuckled. “You have plenty of time find the romance of your dreams. But Bro? If you can’t be with this mystery woman, and if what you say is true about, like, you know, not being able to assume the father role of the baby, then… be there for Marinette, man. Cause like, from what Alya says, it’s like the father won’t be around or something. So like…”

“I won’t be her baby’s father,” Adrien said adamantly. “I may be their favorite uncle, but I won’t replace their real father. I can’t do that.”

“Now hold on, Bro,” Nino said, turning to give Adrien an incredulous look. “ _Favorite_ uncle? I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to. _I_ will be the favorite uncle.”

Adrien narrowed his eyes. “I’m pretty sure that role is already attributed to me, de facto, because of the fact that I’m best friends with the mother.”

“I’m cooler.”

“I’m—”

“I’m more fun.”

Adrien’s eyes were slits now. “We’ll just see about that.”

“Yeah, we will,” Nino said, elbowing him in the gut. He glanced at his watch and winced. “Gotta’ go. We’re live in ten minutes. You’ll tune in?”

“Of course,” Adrien said. “Wouldn’t skip my favorite DJ, would I?”

“Better not, Bro,” Nino said, standing up. “Well, thanks for stopping by. Sorry your life sucks so much. But just think, our friend group is going to have a new little addition in a few months. And you’re going to be a _happy_ new uncle.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said, standing up as well, watching Nino walk back into the radio station.

A happy new uncle.

_And an unlucky, and unhappy, new father._

* * *

 

“Ready? This will be a little cold…” the doctor said, smiling at her.

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Marinette said, a little too forcefully in her nervousness, smiling back shakily. She’s faced down countless Akuma—Hawkmoth—and other crime perpetrators throughout Paris for the last seven years. She can survive a prenatal visit.

“This is so _exciting_ ,” Alya said, squeezing Marinette’s shoulder. “I can’t wait to see my precious little niece.”

“Or nephew,” Marinette said. “Either way, I’m… I _am_ excited. This… this is exciting.”

“Yes, it is,” Alya said, giving Marinette’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Just think… you’re going to be getting a glimpse of your little girl—the little peanut… literally.”

“Or boy,” Marinette said. “Or neither.”

“Or both,” Alya agreed, cheerfully. “But regardless, this is great. I’m really proud of you, Girl. I can’t believe you’re going to be a _mom.”_

“I know…” Marinette breathed. “It’s crazy. And I have that meeting tomorrow with that department store and…” she breathed slowly. “Dr. Borde, is it normal to be as… _nauseas_ as I am everyday?”

“Perfectly normal,” Dr. Borde said. “But if it worsens or is prolonged past the next two or three weeks, let us know.”

“Oh, thank God,” Marinette said. “I feel like I’ve been losing weight cause I can’t keep anything down until noon.”

“I suggest keeping some salty, bland crackers and something sparkling nearby,” Dr. Borde said. “It’ll keep your stomach settled. And I’ll be scheduling you for your epidural consultation when you leave, alright?”

Marinette gave her a tight smile.

They watched as they heard a thumping sound—a heartbeat, and the imaging on the screen turned on, revealing a greyscale blob within another blob. “Oh God,” Marinette said. “I’m giving birth to Jabba the Hutt.”

Both the doctor and and Alya laughed. “Everything looks healthy,” Dr. Borde said.

“And can you tell if it’s a boy or girl?” Marinette asked.

“Possibly,” Dr. Borde said. “But… the good news is, you’re in good health, and so is…” she trailed off, peering at the screen.

“What is it?” Marinette asked, her heart jumping in speed as panic made her arms feel numb.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I have some good news for you,” Dr. Borde said. “You’re having twins.”

* * *

 

“There’s a kind of irony to me having a ‘litter’,” Marinette said, sipping the tea in her travel mug.

“What, like, you being a single mom and now you’re having twins or something?” Alya asked. “Just think… your baby will have a sibling. Two for the price of one. Now, _that’s_ a a bargain to remember.”

“Yeah, it’ll be burned into my lower region cue giving birth time,” Marinette muttered. She let out a groan. “I can’t believe this is happening…”

“Marinette. Girl,” Alya grasped her by the shoulders. “It’ll be _okay._ Repeat after me: ‘I can do this.’”

“I can do this,” Marinette repeated.

“Louder.”

“I can do this!”

“Louder!”

“I Can Do This!” Marinette bellowed.

“Good,” Alya said, patting her on the shoulder. “You _can_ do this _.”_

 _“_ Right, yes, I can,” Marinette said, her hands balled into fists. She drank some more tea to calm herself down. “Kind of wish now that I hadn’t passed out after the doctor told me.”

“Yeah… me too,” Alya said, as they walked into the food court of the shopping mall. “Oh look! There they are. Yo, Nino!”

The two men looked up, grinning at them as they made their way over. “Hey, Babe,” Alya said, clapping Nino on the shoulder. “Adrien how are you?”

“Good,” Adrien said cheerfully, though Marinette could detect a slight… weariness under the surface.

“Guess what?” Alya said. “Guess who’s having twins?”

Adrien and Nino stared blankly at her, before their heads whipped towards Marinette. “You’re not serious…” Nino said. “Marin _ette_ , that’s amazing! I mean… that’s… _whoah.”_

“Congrats, Marinette,” Adrien said, smiling at her.

She returned his smile. “It’s pretty big news,” she said, “Still can’t believe it.”

“You better,” Alya said. “In less than six months, you’ll be giving birth.”

“Right,” Marinette said, frowning, sitting down as well.

“No wonder you’re beginning to show so much,” Alya said. “Wow, this is _so cool._ ”

“Calling it!” Nino said, thrusting his fists in the air. “Boy and Girl. Luke and Leia.”

“Hey that’s what I suggested,” Alya said, slapping Nino gently on the arm in excitement. “Marinette needs to be convinced though. Adrien, what do you think?”

“What?” Adrien’s head shaped towards Alya. “Did you say something?’

“You’re really spacing out, man,” Nino said. “We were saying—”

“Hey,” Alya rose from her seat. “Nino, why don’t we go get Marinette’s and my food from the station, so Miss Carrying-Twins doesn’t have to move around so much.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Marinette said quickly, beginning to stand as well. “It’s not _that_ big a deal—”

“No, no,” Alya said, a sly look on her face. “Come on, Nino.” She grabbed Nino by his sweatshirt and dragged him off.

“Alya,” Marinette said, with a shrug and smile at Adrien. She sat back down. “I haven’t quite broken the news to her that I’ve moved on from you. Poor kid is going to take it hard.”

“Right,” Adrien laughed. He looked uncomfortable.

 _Of course he’s uncomfortable, you dingus,_ Marinette berated herself. “So… Adrien…” she said. “Second trimester! Exciting…”

“Right,” he agreed, nodding.

She fiddled with her hands. “Want to see the sonogram picture?” she asked. She reached into her purse and drew it out carefully. “Here, look… there… and there.”

He looked with interest at the photo. “They’re… beautiful,” he said, so gently she was taken aback.

“Yeah…” she said softly. “Can’t quite make them out though… like… I thought they’d look more… babylike. Next visit I might be able to learn the sex.”

“So, have you told the father yet? That you’re having twins?”

“I’m going to meet up with him this week sometime,” she said. “Give him a picture. The doctor says that next week I might start feeling kicks. Which is cool.”

“How did you not know you were having twins before now?” he asked.

“One of them was always blocking the other,” Marinette shrugged. “This was the first time Dr. Borde got a clear view.”

“Well, it’s… amazing,” he said. “When is your baby shower?”

“You’ll have to ask Alya,” Marinette said, with a nonchalant shrug. “She’s the one planning it.”

“Can I come? Even though I’m a guy?” Adrien asked. “Because regardless of whatever crackpot story Nino has told you, I _am_ going to be the best uncle this baby—excuse me, _these babies,_ have ever seen.”

She chuckled. “I’m sure that’s completely true—”

She was interrupted by Nino and Alya’s unexpected return, chatting amicably and sitting down at the table. “Here you go,” Alya said, putting marinette’s tray down in front of her. “Eat up. You’re eating for _three.”_

“Thanks,” Marinette said, picking up the fork and beginning to eat.

She watched Adrien out of the corners of her eyes, as he laughed and talked with Nino and Alya. She wondered if he _had_ completely moved on from her yet. She knew it wouldn’t take long. His feelings for her seemed to have come and gone as quickly as a summer storm. It was strange—and yet she was relieved. Relieved that he admitted it. Or at least, relieved to know she hadn’t been banking seven years on something _completely_ baseless and hopeless. Now that everything was out in the open, and there were no longer any secrets between them—her being Ladybug notwithstanding—she was relieved she finally had the closure to move on with her life. She could focus on her career, her schooling, and…

Her children.

Children.

Plural.

She was going to be a single mom… to _two_ children.

She suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

“Um, I just realized! I was supposed to go to my parents’ and show them the ultrasound photos,” Marinette said, standing up. She swayed slightly, and Adrien’s stood quickly, grasping her arm to steady her.

“Whoah, are you okay?” Alya asked, looking up at her in concern.

“I’m… fine…” Marinette said, her voice somewhat shaky.

“How about I take you home,” Adrien said.

“Oh, I can walk—or take the subway—”

“I have the car—it’ll be faster,” he said, though at this time of day, or any time of day in Paris, she knew that was a lie.

She gazed at him, before looking back at Alya, who gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up. “Okay,” she finally relented. “Thanks, Adrien.”

“I take my role as favorite uncle very seriously,” he said.

“Excuse me,” Nino spluttered. “ _Favorite_ uncle? I thought we settled this, Adrien. _I’m_ going to be—”

His voice faded away into the general noise of the food court, as Adrien and Marinette walked towards the doors to the parking lot. There, a parked limousine was waiting for them. Adrien opened the door for her, and she slipped inside. He settled into the seat next to her, and instructed the driver to take them to her parent’s bakery.

They sat in a heavy, awkward silence, only broken by the shouts and honking of horns outside in the busy streets of Paris as they drove through. “So…” she said slowly. “How have you been, Adrien?”

“Good,” he said quickly.

She looked at him. He didn’t seem to be honest—if fact, that seemed a downright lie. “Okay, okay,” she said, putting up her hands. “Out with it. What’s bothering you?”

“What?” he looked at her in surprise.

“I can always tells when something is bothering you,” she said. “And this time? It’s something _big._ Something big has been bothering you for a long time.”

“Oh,” he said, staring at her for a moment, before giving her a hesitant smile. “I’…m not sure it’s smart to talk to you about it.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“It’s about… _her,”_ he said.

“Oh,” Marinette said, a blush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. “Oh, well, that’s… you know… You can talk to me about her. Like I said, I’ve moved on from you,” _lie,_ she thought miserably, “So you shouldn’t have to feel bad talking about her in front of me.”

He sighed. “I just… I haven’t seen her in a while. And… I’m worried. What if something has happened to her? It’s not like her to just… drop off the face of the Earth. And I try not to think about it too much—she has her own life. But it’s been weeks and… there are other reasons why I worry. If she could just send me a message saying they’re— _she_ , I mean, is okay… I could… relax a bit more.”

She blinked, guilt scratching like claws at her spine. Ironic, that he should be saying these words. When, at that moment, she felt so much guilt over not having seen Chat in a few weeks at least. In her defense, she had been busy with exams—her last one being tomorrow. Plus she had to land the contract tomorrow… and was working herself into an extremely early labor by trying to get things done _before_ the baby—the _babies,_ she reminded herself—were born. And her spare time was spent trying to do as much reading and research as possible.

But were those big enough excuses?

No.

No they weren’t.

“I’m sorry, Adrien,” she said. “I’m sure that must be really tough. But… I’m sure she must have really good reasons for staying away.”

The look on his face made her want to grab back the words and wish they were never said. “I mean,” she said, quickly, wracking her brain for a way to turn around the meaning so they weren’t quite so insulting, “What I mean is… I hope that… you know… when she does see you again, you don’t… Oh… I don’t know how to give you advice on it…” she said, her face falling into her hands.

“Are you okay?” he asked, after a moment, his voice worried.

“I’m just… guilty because…” she sighed. “Anyway, I’m sure there’s a good reason, that has nothing to do with you, as to why she’s staying away,” she said, bringing her face out of her hands. “I mean… You’re such a catch, Adrien, and if she can’t see that, than she’s a… a real idiot.”

He gave out a short laugh, amused and apathetic at the same time. “ _She’s_ the catch,” he murmured, and she felt her heart fall at these words.

But she had already decided to try to move on from Adrien. And he had decided the same. And he was in love with someone else, and so was she.

 _It sucked,_ she thought, staring out the car window, as buildings and cars zoomed by, _being in love with two people._

* * *

 

“Marinette!” her mom said, walking over to her, squeezing her hands. “How was your appointment? I’m _so_ sorry we weren’t able to make it—but I’m glad Alya was able to be there for you.”

“Are you hungry?” her dad asked. “You can have your pick of the store! On the house,” he added with a wink.

“Right, thanks, Mom, Dad, but I’ve already eaten,” Marinette said. “Plus I still have morning sickness so I’m feeling a bit queasy.”

“Are you drinking the tea?” her mom asked, giving her an appraising look. “It should help with nausea.”

“Yes,” Marinette said. “I’ve been drinking it everyday, Mom.” She looked around the store, before looking back at her mother. “I actually have the ultrasound photo for you… if you’d like to see it.”

“Oh!” her mom clapped her hands together excitedly. “Oh, Tom, come here, come here.”

“One moment,” her dad called, handing a customer their change and baked goods. He hurried over, peering over his much shorter wife’s shoulder at the picture Marinette held out for them to see.

“Oh…” her mom said softly. “Oh! Oh, that’s…” her parents looked up to stare at her. “ _Twins?!”_

Marinette nodded.

“Oh!” Her mom’s eyes widened, and her dad gave out a bark of laughter. “Twins! How exciting! How are you feeling?”

“Honestly? A little… overwhelmed,” Marinette said, smiling shakily. “I mean… _Mom,_ how am I supposed to raise a kid by myself? Let alone _two?”_

“Oh, honey,” her mom glanced at her dad, who nodded. “Come with me, let’s go upstairs.” Her mom put an arm around her shoulder and led her up the stairs to her parent’s apartment.Once there, her mom set to making tea, put some cookies on a plate and placed it in front of Marinette, who sat at the counter.

Marinette watched her mother’s back as she worked. “I just… I just don’t know, Mom,” she said. “I thought, _maybe_ I could do it. Maybe. With _one_ baby. But two? I _don’t_ think I can do it. One is manageable. Two is…”

“I know we swore we wouldn’t ask questions about him,” her mother said, placing a mug in front of Marinette and sitting across from her. “But will the father be able to help at all?”

Marinette sighed. She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think he can, Mom. I just… don’t see how he can. I barely even _know_ him…” she froze, and then amended, “I mean… I know him really well, for a long time—but I don’t really _know_ him, you know?”

“Isn’t that true for everyone though?” her mom asked. “I mean, you’ve known Alya and Adrien for a long time, but do you _truly know,_ know ** _,_** them?”

“Yes, I think I do, Mom, they’re my best friends,” Marinette replied, rolling her eyes.

“I’m just saying,” her mom said, sipping from her mug. “There’s a lot about a person. Just because you don’t know this man as well as you’d like, doesn’t mean he might not make a great father.”

Marinette gazed morosely at the swirling brown liquid. “I wish he could be around—but… also not.” She let out a groan. “It’s so frustrating Mom. I _want_ to be with him, but I also want to be with _Adrien…”_

“Well, you can’t be with both,” her mother replied. “And since you’ve already moved on from Adrien… perhaps you can give the father a chance. You know we’d like to meet him.”

“Maybe, one day,” Marinette said, distractedly. She swirled her spoon in the mug, not having drunk any of the tea yet. “Mom?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes, I see that,” her mother said, amused. “But you’ll figure it out.”

“Ugh,” Marinette said, clutching at her forehead with her fingers, “This is the _one_ time I wish you’d just tell me what to do… I just… wish… I wish I wasn’t in love with two different guys. Then all my problems would be solved.”

“You wish the father and Adrien were the same person, you mean?” her mother asked, raising her eyebrows in further amusement.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mom,” Marinette said, shaking her head in amusement in her own.

Chat Noir and Adrien… the same person? She had never heard anything so… ridiculous. And that was considering the things she’s done and seen since she was fifteen as Ladybug, not to mention Marinette. She heaved a sigh. “Doesn’t matter. There are other reasons this guy can’t be involved.”

“And things truly can’t go forward with you and Adrien?” her mom asked. “You sure nothing can happen?”

“He doesn’t want to give up on his… uh… I don’t _think_ she’s his girlfriend but… she’s kind of his… you know? I don’t know anything about her really. That’s… strange, you know. That he’s never mentioned who this woman is after all this time of us being friends.”

What if he had made her up as an excuse not to be with _her?_ No, that was ridiculous as well. Adrien wouldn’t have confessed to liking her if he didn’t want to be with her _that_ badly.

“Well, after all this time of being your mother you didn’t mention seeing a guy,” her mother said, sipping her tea, raising her eyebrows at her.

“Oh, _please_ , Mom, you’d… you’d be shocked, if you found out who it was,” Marinette said, finally drinking some of her own tea.

Her mother leaned forward excitedly. “Is it a celebrity?”

“Of a sort,” Marinette murmured, hiding a smile behind the mug. Which reminded her… she had to tell Chat about the baby—it had been a few weeks, almost a month, since they had last seen each other. She had excuses, but that’s all they were. _Excuses._ And bad ones at that. How would she face him? She only hoped he was kept as busy as she was. She knew she had a lot to apologize for.

But twins would complicate things. Twins were less likely and coincidental than a single baby was. What if people start putting two and two together? What if Chat, who knew her as Marinette, though mistakingly not his Ladybug, realized that two women who looked remarkably alike were as far along in their pregnancies and were _both_ pregnant with twins?

That…

That was far too much of a coincidence to be likely.

“Oh… _crap_ …” she muttered.

“What is it?” her mom asked, alarmed.

“Nothing, I just… I just…” she heaved a sigh. “I just realized I’m going to have to lie about something.”

“About what?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Marinette said. “Point is… I’m going to have to lie about something very, _very_ important.”

* * *

 

Adrien glanced at his watch, before returning to his essay. He supposed he still had time to finish this last paragraph—but frankly, the thought of what was about to transpire was far, far too distracting to focus on midterms.

“Come on, why the long face?” Plagg asked, looking up from his camembert and giving Adrien an calculating look. “It’s not like you’re going to a funeral. You’re going to go see Ladybug! The woman you’ve been in love with for _years._ Who is carrying your kitten! I would have thought that would have been exciting.”

“It is—I mean,” Adrien corrected, sighing, “It _should_ be. But I don’t even know Ladybug’s true identity.”

“Probably best that way,” Plagg mused. “But if you ask me—”

“She would never stand for it,” Adrien said, leaning back in his seat. “Ever since we were kids, she’s always stuck so hard to the damn rules. And I don’t want to push her—I don’t want to accidentally push her away. For _whatever_ reason, she has her reasons for keeping away, and not telling me who she is…”

His brows furrowed, as he gazed surreptitiously at the calendar before him. Ladybug was only due in about six months—she should be about a third of the way through her pregnancy now. And then he’d be a father.

“Come on, Adrien,” Plagg yawned. “It’s not so bad. Maybe you dodged a bullet. You know, this way you can sow your seeds, do what you wanna do, and not have to worry about settling down at the tender age of only twenty-two.”

“Oh, yeah, _that’s_ what I’m thinking about,” Adrien said, rolling his eyes.

“Truth be told, Ladybug has some points,” Plagg said with a shrug. “It is tradition that Miraculous bearers shouldn’t know who each other are… but, it would’t be the first time it’s happened.”

“What do you mean?” Adrien asked numbly, staring out the window of his room.

“You think, after millenniums of kwamis and miraculous bearers, there hasn’t been _one_ ladybug and cat set that hasn’t… you know, fallen for each other?”

“You mean, it’s happened before?” Adrien asked, his eyes widening, as he turned his head to look at the kwami.

“Of course,” Plagg yawned again. “Always ends rather terribly though… I would advice against it.”

“What happened?” Adrien prompted.

Plagg’s usually blasé countenance was broken momentarily by a look that Adrien never expected from the creature. Just as quickly, the cat shook his little head, his common lazy expression returning. “What matters is,” the cat said. “It’s probably for the best.”

“Right,” Adrien said, slowly, still staring at Plagg.

“ _But,_ ” Plagg continued, “Perhaps… in this case…”

“What, you mean, go after her?” Adrien asked.

“Well…” Plagg shrugged his little shoulders. “You have to weigh the odds.”

“Odds of what?” Adrien glanced at his phone. Half an hour until he was to meet up with Ladybug.

“How many enemies do you have?” Plagg asked. “Do you really want to endanger your kid by accidentally letting someone know that you’re the father?”

Adrien frowned. “Is that what happened?” he asked, after a moment. “Did one of my predecessor’s kids… get hurt?”

Plagg did not reply, merely continuing the sniff the camembert, though he was refraining from eating it. “It’s happened a few times,” he said at last. “You think you’re the first of the Cat miraculous holders who’s fallen for a Ladybug? Or the first to father or mother a child?”

He yawned, shook his head, and took a large bite of camembert. “Point is,” he said. “How are you going to decide whether to choose Ladybug or Marinette?”

“What?” Adrien frowned, taken aback by the cat’s change of mood. “That’s not even—Marinette and I aren’t going to—”

But he was too distracted by the cat’s words to notice the change of subject.

_You think you’re the first of the Cat miraculous holders who’s fallen for the Ladybug?_

_Or the first to father or mother a child?_

The implication of these words sank into his stomach with claws. Perhaps Plagg was right, if Adrien understood him. If Ladybug knew who he was, and his kid did too, that might let the secret out. That might… that _would_ endanger his child. What if one of his enemies, Hawkmoth, to name one, discovered that he was a father? What if that child was endangered because of a connection to him, a superhero of Paris? What if… what if what Plagg was hinting at would happen to his _own_ child?

“This doesn’t mean I’m going to give up on knowing my kid,” Adrien said quietly.

“I know,” Plagg said, yawning. “But really, Adrien, do you _really_ want to be a dad at your age? You’re young! Live a little.”

* * *

 

Adrien could feel the anticipation in every corner of his body. It pulsed along with his blood, ringing in his ears, and causing him to be slightly more jumpy than he usually was. He flinched when the wind knocked over a folding chair on the next roof.

He almost didn’t hear her as she stepped up behind him. He slowly turned, her face pale in the moonlight, looking at him with that sad expression that he was so unused to her using with him. His eyes slowly drifted down to her stomach, where a definite curve protruded oddly within her ladybug suit.

He looked back up at her eyes, and licked his lips nervously. “Ladybug—” he began, but before he could continued, she said, quickly:

“Chat… I… I’m sorry I didn’t see you before now,” she paused, looking down at her stomach, before looking back at him. “How have you been?”

He blinked in surprise, and then gave out a laugh, but stopped himself. “Well enough,” he said with a shrug. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been…” she paused, and shook her head. “I don’t know…” She took in a deep breath, and looked back at him. “Things have just been the _Chat’s Meow._ ”

He winced visibly. “Don’t add insult to injury with horrible puns that barely even count as puns,” he retorted.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, with a shrug. “I rather think that I’m pretty _pawsome_ at puns.”

He winced again, but couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up inside him. _This_ was good. _This_ is what he missed. He missed being able to really talk with her—be around her. Have what was between them be natural again.

“I brought something for you,” she said.

He looked at her in interest.

“Here,” she held something out, and he couldn’t make out in the darkness what exactly it was, save only that it was some kind of photograph. As he approached, he realized that it was a sonogram picture.

“Is that—” he began, reaching out and stopping himself, before looking at her with wide eyes. She nodded, and he took the photograph gently in his hands. The shapes were most indistinguishable, even if it wasn’t dark, but he could see the definite outline of a small figure—distorted and not at all human looking, but baby looking nonetheless.

“Don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy,” Ladybug continued. “I’ll know in a week or two.”

He nodded mutely, his eyes memorizing every contour and shape in the photograph, as if in a moment’s notice, it might be taken away. “Thank you,” he whispered.

She reached out and grasped his hand, and then pulled him into a hug. He felt her stomach press into him, in a way her usually flat stomach never quite did. He tucked the photograph into a pocket, and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “That we can’t… you know…”

“Yeah,” she replied, just as softly. “I wish we could, you know. Be a family. But…”

He nodded his reply. He felt her sigh against his neck, and shivered slightly, wishing that they could kiss—spend one more night together, or just hold each other like this for a few hours. But soon she was moving away from him, untangling herself from his arms, and heaving another sigh—which quickly turned into a gasp of surprise.

“What is it?” he exclaimed, moving forward quickly to aid her, but the excited and shocked look on her face told him that it couldn’t be anything drastic.

“The babie—baby kicked!” she said, looking at him with a peculiar smile. “Here, feel!” she held out her hand for his, and he stepped forward, placing his hand in hers. She placed it on his stomach, and his eyes widened as he felt a strange sensation against his skin, a kind of pressure pressing against his hand just under the surface of her stomach. With each kick, he felt excitement bubble up in his own body.

“That’s incredible,” he said, looking at her face with a laugh. “What does it feel like to you?”

“ _Weird,”_ she said. “This is the first time it’s ever happened…” she placed a hand on the other side of her stomach, and he looked at her with a questioning look. She shook her head quickly. “It’s nothing,” she said. “A cramp.”

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded firmly, smiling an affirmation.

He looked back down at her stomach, but the kicks had subsided. “That’s incredible,” he said, moving his hand away.

She nodded. “It really is,” she said. “It finally feels like I’m _pregnant,_ and not just gaining weight. Oh my god… I’m going to be a _mom…_ ”

He reached out and brushed her bangs away from her face, and leaned down towards her. He knew it was a bad idea… it was a _terrible_ idea. But he also knew that he wouldn’t get another chance. They’d have to start being careful. He’d have to get used to not being involved with her on a personal level, especially once the baby was born. He almost wished that she would stop him, turn her face away and do the responsible thing.

But she didn’t.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued…
> 
> Note: Marinette is around 14 weeks at this point, which is a little early for definitive movements in a first time pregnancy, but not entirely impossible. I just really wanted Chat to be the one who was around when the baby(s) first kicked ;D
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Hope you awesome peeps have an awesome rest of your weekend!
> 
> EDIT: Also I apologize for the blatant sw references I... I couldn't help it I... it was an impulse decision lmao
> 
> See you soon!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks so much for being so patient for this chapter! It’s a bit angsty, but I hope that it’s worth the wait (and read)!

He caught his breath when she pulled away, and lost it again, when he saw the look of regret and anguish on her face.

“I’m sorry, Chat,” she said, a little breathless herself. “That was… that was unfair of me.”

He shook his head mutely, as she once again untangled herself from his arms. He moved with her slightly, reluctant to let her go. “Lady…” he murmured, and she flinched at the sound of his voice. “It’s okay,” he said, a little emptily, deciding not to press the issue of needing her in his arms. “I… I understand. It’s my fault anyway, I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“Yeah,” she agreed softly. “But I shouldn’t have _kissed you back._ Either time.”

He looked at her with a question in his eyes.

“Don’t get me wrong—“ she said, cutting herself off for a moment, as she gathered her thoughts. “I don’t regret having these—the baby… I only regret that we can’t be… a family,” she said these last words quietly, as if she hoped he would not hear them.

“Right,” he said, nodding numbly.

She reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. “Chat…” she said. “I… I want you to know that I really do care about you.”

“But you’re in love with someone else,” he said with a shrug.

“No—I mean, yes, but,” she floundered for a moment, before finally finding her composure. “I am—but it won’t work out with him. And… I think it’s best if I do things on my own from now on. I don’t want to complicate things for either of you.”

He looked at her. “And you think my life is less complicated because I don’t get the chance to be a father?” he asked.

She gave him an incredulous look. “It’s not like that, Chat.”

“Then what is it like?” he asked. “Do you have _any_ idea how hard it’s been—not… _being_ there for you? With either of you?” he demanded, gesturing to her mid-section. “It’s… it’s so… _painful_ , and _agonizing,_ knowing that I should be helping you, and… and, and,” in his frustration, he found himself the one floundering, “Being there for you, and just… being _around,_ but I can’t because of _this,”_ he brandished his miraculous angrily. “I don’t care that I’m young, I don’t care that I’m the cat miraculous holder… I’m just… I just want to _be with you,_ Ladybug.”

He looked at her beseechingly.

He watched as her lips trembled, and sensed that she almost took a step towards him, almost threw herself into his arms. “I know,” she whispered. “So do I.”

He let out a ragged breath.

“But you know as well as I do, we _can’t_ ,” she said firmly.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because—” she stopped herself. “Chat, I…” she exhaled slowly, as if trying to calm herself. “I wish we could. I really do. But…”

“Then what is it?” he demanded.

“I can’t—” she broke off, hugging herself. “Chat… I just can’t. And you know it. We both know we can’t know who each other are.”

“Under these circumstances—”

“Did your kwami tell you what happened to the last child?” Ladybug asked.

Adrien blinked in surprise. “What?”

“The last time a cat holder and ladybug holder… had a child?” Ladybug said again, not looking at him.

“He… mentioned something…” Adrien said, morbidly curious enough to allow her to tell him.

“The child—died,” she said, so softly, he might have missed her words over the sound of the wind on the rooftops.

He took in a sharp breath, and somehow, found it difficult again to exhale, as he waited for her to continue.

“He was being raised by both his parents, and…” Ladybug shuddered slightly.

“How did he die?” Adrien prompted softly.

Ladybug shrugged. “He… one of his parents was captured… tortured, and killed. Before he died, he revealed who the real identity of his partner was. I don’t think he… meant to. In fact, I know he didn’t. But the child was revealed when the enemy tracked down the other miraculous holder, and… they both died. We can’t let that happen, Chat. It’s bad enough that this child is being raised by _one_ person like _us._ What if it had two superhero parents?”

“So…” Adrien said. “So _I_ have to be the one who isn’t involved?”

She looked at him sharply. “Don’t say that. You can be involved, I’m just saying that—”

“Our baby can’t know I’m the father,” Adrien said slowly. “But what about you?”

“It needs at least one parent, Chat,” she said. “I considered adoption but…” she shrugged again. “Everyone knows I’m pregnant in my real life and… I don’t want to give these—this baby up.”

“And what about me?” he asked quietly. It stung the way she said ‘her real life’, as if any life with him would be somehow lesser, or lacking in some way. As if their time together was somehow… false. Fake.

She paused, before looking at him firmly in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Chat,” she said. “I have to prioritize the baby’s life. Even if it means I can’t be Ladybug until the child is eighteen… the baby comes first.”

“But Paris needs you,” he answered.

“Well!” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “What would you have me choose, Chat? I can’t choose both.”

He stared at her, and watched as regret once again overcame her features.

“I’m sorry, Chat,” she said, reaching out for him. “I shouldn’t have implied—”

“Forget it,” he said tiredly, evading her hand, “I’ll be waiting for the next time you deign to keep me in the loop.”

And with that, he jumped to the next roof, and hurried away, hoping that she wouldn’t follow him, and praying that she would.

But she didn’t.

* * *

 

“I’m so sorry, Marinette,” Tikki said, once they got back to their apartment.

“Yeah… me too,” Marinette replied, sinking onto her sofa with a sigh. “He’s going to hate me now.”

“No, he isn’t,” Tikki said assuredly. “He just… needs to understand.”

“How can I expect him to understand?” Marinette asked, looking at Tikki with a beseeching look of her own. “I basically just told him he can’t be involved in his own kid’s life. That’s… that’s beyond cruel.”

“I know, Marinette,” Tikki said. “And if you choose to tell him the truth of who you are—I’ll support you. But it’s always best to keep your identity _secret_. Not just for _your_ safety, and for the safety of your secret, but for Chat’s safety, and especially for the _babies’_ safety.”

“I know,” Marinette said. “But he’ll probably find out anyway. Chat knows me—as Marinette—so chances are he’ll show up sometime and… and see the kids and… Oh… I even had to pretend I was only pregnant with _one!”_ she cried out, pulling on her braid. “I had to use an old sonogram so that he wouldn’t see that it was twins. I can’t _believe_ I had to _lie_ to him like that…”

“I know, Mari,” Tikki said, coming to rest on Marinette’s shoulder. “It really… it really _sucks_. But I just can’t see what happened to Bastian happen again. If you’re going to raise these children, and raise them to live to see their adulthood, you’re going to have to make sacrifices.”

“I know,” Marinette said glumly. “And… I hate to admit it but… there’s a part of me that doesn’t _want_ to know who Chat really is. Because I’m not sure I want to… I mean, I _do_ want to be with him. I really do. But I’m not sure if I’m ready to be with him exclusively. Let go of Adrien completely. In a way… I’d rather have neither, if I have to let go of one or the other.”

She let out a frustrated groan. “I’m just the _worst.”_

“No, you’re not, Marinette,” Tikki said. “You’ve made a decision, and you need to stick with it. Right now, you don’t need to think about whether or not you made the right or wrong one.”

Marinette shrugged. “I guess the babies are more important than my love life.”

Tikki nodded. “And if you decide, eventually, to let Chat in on the secret… then… I’ll support you. Who knows… maybe this time, something could work out between a cat and ladybug holder.”

“You mean it’s _never_ worked out before?” Marinette asked, raising a skeptical brow.

“Rarely,” Tikki said sadly. “But that’s mostly because fatality rates of miraculous holders are quite hi—”

They both jumped at the sound of a knock at Marinette’s door. “Who’d be coming here at this hour of the morning?” Marinette asked, frowning. But she realized that the knock did not come from the door, of which there were only a few candidates who could get past the main front door. The knock came from the door to the balcony.

And she knew exactly who it was. “Hide,” she told Tikki, who flew quickly into Marinette’s bedroom. Marinette walked over to the glass door, protected by the curtain, and drew the curtain back, seeing Chat’s opposite hers. She quickly opened the door. “Oh,” she said softly. “What are you…?”

He turned his face upwards, to look at her, and she gave a small gasp. He looked emotional—in fact, he looked like he had just been crying. She felt guilt stab at her gut, momentarily making her think that her morning sickness was coming a bit early in the day.

“I know it’s late,” he said, “But… can I come in?”

“Sure,” she said automatically, opening the door wider and stepping aside. He stepped in, looking around. This wasn’t the first time Chat Noir had come to her apartment, but he hadn’t come in months. Not since long before she found out she was pregnant. What was odd was that he didn’t even seem surprised to see the pregnancy and birthing and parenting books scattered throughout the apartment, in plain view, or the toys and baby supplies she was slowly starting to accumulate. Or the drawings of a infant fashion line.

Or the sight of her with an obviously beginning-to-show pregnant belly.

She quickly closed the door. “So… Chat…” she said. “Uh… what are you doing here?’

He didn’t reply. He merely gazed morosely at the books on the table.

“Oh, yeah,” she said. “I’m pregnant. Bet you didn’t know _that_ , huh?”

He shrugged. “That’s not… well, yeah, I guess I didn’t.” She could tell he was lying. Was he keeping tabs on her? Strange. 

“Are you okay?” she asked. “You seem a little… out of it,” she walked towards him. Of course, she knew _exactly_ why he was ‘out of it.’

The love of his life had just broken his heart. And not for the first time.

Chat shook his head, and then nodded, giving him a confused countenance. She reached out and touched his arm, and he flinched slightly, and turned to look at her. “I just… I just got in a disagreement with someone,” he said.

“Oh?” she asked. She could tell he wanted to talk about it—but how could she let him spill his thoughts to her? When _she_ was the one he had been in a disagreement with? No, when _she_ was the one who had broken his heart and hopes? How could she let him vent to her when she was responsible for him being in this condition?

It would be a major violation of his trust.

“I’m not sure, Chat,” she said, “That that is a smart idea.”

“What?” he looked at her, surprised.

“I mean,” she said quickly, realizing her thoughts had overestimated where they were in their somewhat lack of conversation. “What I mean is, I’d _love_ to let you talk things out, and be a sounding board for you—but I don’t think it’d be a good idea. I’m… I’m too biased. I guess.”

“Biased? Oh, because you know her?” he asked. “Ladybug, I mean?”

“Uh, yeah,” she said. “Plus, I… I kind of… I don’t know… I kind of feel guilty—about something else, of course.”

“Do you need to talk about it?” he asked.

“No!” she said quickly. That was just as bad, she thought. Or almost, at least. “No, I don’t think I do,” she said. “Anyway, I think…” she trailed off. “Chat… I’m sorry.”

He looked at her, surprise etched on his face. “What?”

“For whatever it is that’s making you suffer. I’m sorry,” she said. “I really wish, you know, that I could help you. Or that, whatever it is, things go different and better for you. Maybe one day, you know?”

He nodded slowly, and reached out for her. She shivered, as he brushed a stray strand of her bangs away from her face, and wondered briefly if he was going to kiss her again. But it wouldn’t be ‘again’, for him. He didn’t know she was Ladybug. How angry would he be if he found out that Ladybug and Marinette were the same person? Or that she was here, standing with him, just hours after she had torn his heart into pieces?

“I think, Chat,” she said. “I think you need to go home and rest.”

He nodded, retracting his hand. She felt relief flood her. Relief that he _didn’t_ kiss her. She knew she had no right to want him to be loyal to her—to Ladybug, that is, but if what he said was true about being desperate to be with her, and their child—children—then she would feel strange, oddly enough, if he somehow came onto her while he thought she was Marinette—who to him, was a different person. But perhaps that would make it easier, knowing that he wasn’t as invested in her as he claimed. Easier to let him go.

“I think you should go,” she whispered.

He nodded. “Sorry.”

“No,” she said quickly. “It’s just… I’m having a bit of a rough night—so I’m… just wanting to…”

“Do you need company?” he asked, looking at her almost hopefully.

Her lips parted, but her words died on her tongue. She wouldn’t be able to answer that. Yes, she wanted company. Yes, Chat was one of two persons, the other being Adrien, whom she would want to have as company at the moment. But that was unfair. And as unfair as it was, it was more unfair for her to want to be with Chat—and unfair of her to want him to not want to be with her, Marinette that is—“Ugh,” she muttered, rubbing her head. Exhaustion on top of pregnancy did not make her the most adequate thinker.

“Sorry,” Chat said abruptly, spinning around and walking towards the door.

“No!” she said, springing forward. She paused, and said, hesitantly. “I’m… I’m sorry Chat. But I just want to be alone right now. I just… need… anyway, please don’t think you can’t come around or… be around or… whatever,” she said. “It’s just… I need to be alone right now.”

He nodded, and opened the screen door leading to her porch, and stepped out.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and then said, loudly, “Chat! Wait…”

He froze, turning to look at her with a surprised expression.

“You can… I don’t want you to go off on your own,” she said, wincing as she said it. “I don’t trust that you won’t do something stupid. So… come on inside. You can stay until your time is up—or however that works.”

She sat down on the couch, and waited for him to come and sit beside her. “So…” she said. “What’s bothering you?”

“You know how Ladybug and I are kind of partners in crime-fighting?” he asked.

She waited a moment to reply. “Yeah?” she finally prompted.

“Well, that’s all we are,” he said shortly.

“I… oh,” she said. “Okay. Well, I don’t think that’s quite true.”

He looked at her, a skeptical look on his face.

“You know, everyone thinks you guys have a thing for each other,” Marinette said. _Mostly because_ Chat _spread those rumors,_ she added silently. “So… I don’t think it’s completely without merit. But… is that all that’s bothering you?”

He shrugged. “There’s other, more important, stuff too. She’s pregnant. With my child.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, and she faked surprise.

“So… you’re upset because you can’t… be a family with her?” Marinette asked. “That’s… hard,” she said, feeling extremely awkward. “I’m really sorry about that. But… Surely… surely you don’t think Ladybug is the _only_ woman out there for you? I mean, think about how many women are in the world. Somewhere, _someone_ out there is perfect for you, I know it. I have faith that just because things can’t—apparently—work out with you and Ladybug, that you can still find happiness. And… besides, I think Ladybug has the right to reject you.”

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow, and she managed to feel guilty. “What I mean is,” she clarified, “I think… it’s unfair for both of you to expect someone that you probably don’t know that well… to be The One, you know? And you’re young, right? Relationships at this age… don’t always last forever. It’s natural, sometimes even healthy, to move on… And, you know,” she added, unable to believe that she was _actually_ giving advice to Chat about looking for a different relationship, and fighting back her own emotional turmoil at having to take the mature road at the moment, when all she wanted to do was cry. Or kiss Chat. Or cry _and_ kiss Chat. And tell him everything. “I think you deserve better than Ladybug.”

He looked at her, sharply this time.

“I mean it,” she said. “And I’m—uh—Ladybug’s _biggest_ fan—kind of. Anyway,” she said quickly, flushing, “I think there’s someone out there who is just perfect for you, and you… I think it’s probably best if you, you know… move on from Ladybug.”

He was staring at her intently. Because of her audacity, or out of shock, or suspicion, she didn’t know. She returned his gaze, wishing that she could continue their… interaction from earlier. When they were standing on a roof. Embracing and—

She quickly turned her head away when his own face came towards her. Her eyes were wide as she took in a few ragged breaths, and stood up. “Uh, so, if there’s anything else you need—don’t hesitate to stop by,” she said, determinedly not looking at him.

“Right,” he said, color creeping into he parts of his face she could see around his mask. He stood up. “I’m… sorry…”

She waited until she heard the sound of her balcony door close to look. He was gone. She exhaled slowly, not realizing she had been holding her breath in her shock.

Chat had just tried to _kiss_ her.

He was vulnerable, she told herself, and she was there offering comfort, though of a different kind than he interpreted. _Anyone_ might have tried to kiss her if they were in Chat’s situation.

But still.

The worry that she might be right in her doubts about Chat’s feelings settled uncomfortably in her gut.

And she only half hoped she _wasn’t_ right.

* * *

 

It was a strange, overcast day when Mr. Agreste came into her studio. She nearly dropped her mug, staring in shock, awe, and horror as the imposing man looked around the tiny space, before his eyes finally settled on her.

“Mr…Mr. Agreste,” she squeaked, before quickly finding her composure. “I’m—so honored you’re here. Why… are you here?”

Mr. Agreste turned his face towards her, giving her a calculating look. She noticed his eyes dropped down to her stomach, and back to her face. “I see the rumors are true,” he said. “You are with child.”

“Uh,” flustered, she realized why he had come. “I assure you,” she said. “Adrien isn’t the father—he and I aren’t, and have never been, involved with each other.”

“Oh?” Mr. Agreste narrowed his eyes slightly. “Is that so.”

“Yes, it is,” she said. They stood there, gazing at each other, before she quickly pulled out a chair at her work table. “Would you like to sit, Mr. Agreste?”

“I’d prefer to stand, thank you,” he said, turning his gaze to look around the studio. Contrary to his statement, he began to slowly walk around the room. “If I were to find out that you _were_ carrying the children of my son, and were hiding that fact, with or without his consent…” he turned to give her a cold look, “I will not be pleased.”

Marinette blinked, before frowning determinedly at him. “I swear to you, Mr. Agreste, Adrien is _not_ the father of my children.”

He gazed at her. “You are sure?”

“Of course I am sure!” she exclaimed. Then, realizing she had just exploded at one of the most powerful men, particularly in her line of work, in Paris, if not the world, she amended. “I mean, Mr. Agreste, I think I would know if Adrien and I had ever… I’m sure. You can order a paternity test, if you want.”

“My son is adamant as well that he is not the father,” Mr. Agreste said.

She nearly threw her hands into the air in her exasperation. Did Mr. Agreste believe or _not_ believe that Adrien was the father?! She gazed at him, steadying her breathing. “Why are you here?” she asked.

“I do not… _not_ believe my son,” Mr. Agreste said, turning his body to face her.

“Then why are you here?” she repeated. “If you believe your son—why come to me?”

“I have my own reasons,” Mr. Agreste said. “And I assure you, they are my own. I will order a paternity test, with your and my son’s consent.”

“Good,” Marinette said. “And then you’ll see that Adrien _is not_ the father of my children. However much I might—” she stopped herself, but Mr. Agreste narrowed his eyes. And she realized the true reason for his visit.

“My son is young,” he said. “He has… his whole future ahead of him. I must admit, I was relieved that he had _not_ fathered any children—that is to say, nothing against _you_ , Miss Dupain-Cheng. I believe out of anyone you would make a good partner for my son. Would you two have been a few years older, and your goals in life well set on being accomplished, I would have approved of a relationship, and the results thereof, between you.”

Marinette stared at him. Did she just get the approval from Adrien’s father to date him? Have a family with him? She nearly swayed in shock.

“But, as I mentioned, my son is young. Much too young to be a father,” Mr. Agreste said.

“Which he isn’t,” Marinette agreed. “At least, not of my children.”

Mr. Agreste nodded his own agreement. “That is not to say I would not want my son to… take responsibility for his actions, if he were, but I am relieved that his life plans will not be disrupted.”

Marinette waited for him to continue, dreading his next words.

“I hope, Miss Dupain-Cheng, that his life plans will _not_ be disrupted.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“If Adrien is not the father of your children, I ask that you do not allow him to take that role. My son is noble, and he will try, unintentionally or not, to fill the role of father, or at least, help you as much as he can,” Mr. Agreste explained.

“So, your’e saying you want Adrien to just… not help out or be there for me?” she asked.

Mr. Agreste, at least, had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable with her question. “I mean that you should not put undue pressure on my son to fill the role of someone else, when, as you have so clearly explained, he has no claim to that role.”

She drummed her fingers on the table. She knew that Mr. Agreste had a point. In fact, it was something that she had been thinking about—guilty that she denied Chat the role but willingly accepted it from Adrien. And not only that, was allowing Adrien to assume a role he didn’t ask for—at least, not outside any commitment to their friendship. “I understand, Mr. Agreste,” she said. “But Adrien is my friend. And if he wants to be there for me during my pregnancy, and when the babies are born, I can’t stop him. He… he would take that as a deeply personal insult.”

Mr. Agreste nodded.

“But I’ll try to tell him he doesn’t need to be as involved as he thinks he has to be,” she said. “Perhaps that will lesson some of the pressure on him.”

At these words, Mr. Agreste looked slightly pleased.

“I know that you’re only looking out for your son,” she continued. “Truth be told—as much as I wish Adrien _was_ the father of my children, I understand why you’re relieved he’s not. I don’t take that as an insult.” Not completely, anyway, she thought. “He is young, and he deserves a full life, without having to settle down with a family barely after becoming an adult. I’ll… I’ll speak to him and try to impress upon him that I can do it on my own. But he only wants to be the babies’ uncle,” she added. “He doesn’t want to be their father.”

Mr. Agreste nodded.

“And you can do a paternity test, if you want,” she offered. “It’s…” she trailed off for a moment. “Do paternity tests show who the father _really_ is?”

Mr. Agreste frowned at her.

“I think, Mr. Agreste, I might rescind my offer,” she said quickly. “I don’t want people finding out who the father really is.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Very well,” he said, finally. “I will not ask you to partake in a paternity test.”

“Thank you,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Thankfully, he switched his gaze from her back to sweeping across the studio. “You have fine work, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” he said. “I have followed your work for some time now.”

“R—really?” she said, her eyes widening. “You know my work?”

“Of course,” he said. “Besides being a good friend of my son, you have talent in my own profession. I, of course, keep an eye on all my competitors. I have a meeting in half an hour, so I best be off. Until we meet again, Miss Dupain-Cheng.” He gave her a nod of goodbye, and left the studio.

She stared after him.

_I, of course, keep an eye on all my competitors._

She took in a shaky, excited breath.

Mr. Agreste considered her one of his _competitors_.

And _that_ was something worth celebrating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued…
> 
> Sorry about all the angst in this chapter… Hopefully the fluffiness in the next couple chapters will make up for it? (Finger’s crossed ;)
> 
> Also yes, Marinette was being a bit a hypocrite in this chapter (particularly in her advice to Chat.) She's trying to cover her bases. And it was an supremely awkward position to be in anyway, haha. Poor Marinette, having to give advice to the love of her life on moving on from her :( 
> 
> Also most of Adrien/Chat's angst at the moment stems from not being able to father his child, which in turn stems from not being able to know Ladybug in real life. If there was no child, he wouldn't be quite so upset about not being able to ever be with Ladybug (I mean, he would be upset, but he's a big boy, he'd get over it). He probably would have made himself move on by now (and most likely would have moved onto Marinette lol)
> 
> Anywho, thanks so much for reading! And so sorry again for the lateness of this chapter… 
> 
> Also!! I wanted to thank everyone who has commented, given a kudos, bookmarked, subscribed, etc. It’s absolutely blown me away how many people seem to enjoy this story and I only hope I’m able to keep you entertained until the end!
> 
> <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hope you enjoy this chapter :)
> 
> So sorry this is super late!

 

“So… I might be coming round to Luke and Leia,” Marinette said, sitting down next to Adrien and placing the popcorn bowl in his lap unceremoniously.

“Oh?” he asked, frowning. “Why’s that?”

“I’m _joking_ ,” she laughed. “ _But…_ I found out today that I have…” she drummed her fingers against her stomach, “A boy and a girl in the oven, so to speak. That…” she said quickly, “Sounded weird. I have a boy and girl _bun_ …s… in the oven. Okay, it’s a bad metaphor.”

A huge smile spread across Adrien’s face. “Marinette, that’s fantastic,” he said.

She beamed back at him. “It’s super exciting,” she said. “Adrien… I’m kind of getting excited about being a mom.”

He grinned at her, though she could, to her confusion, detect a hint of sadness in his eyes. “You landed that contract right?” he asked, turning his eyes back to the tv. She wasn’t sure if the sudden change in subject was purposeful or not.

“Oh, yeah,” she nodded, grabbing a handful of popcorn while she clicked through to the DVD setting on the TV. She started the movie. “It was amazing, Adrien. They want me to do a trial run for this summer, and _then_ if that’s successful, I might get a three year contract!”

“That’s… that’s amazing,” he said. “But this summer… that’s cutting it a little close, don’t you think? With the babies coming in a few months?”

“I have about five and a half months before they’re due,” she said, putting another piece of popcorn in her mouth. “I’ve got plenty of time.”

“What about when they’re born?” Adrien asked. “What then?”

“Well,” she shrugged, “I guess I’ll be hiring a nanny. What about you?” she asked. “Do you know what you’re doing after you graduate this spring?”

Adrien shook his head. “Honestly, it all depends on what my _father_  wants me to do.”

“That’s not right,” Marinette muttered loudly. “You should be able to decide for yourself what you want to do. You’re an adult now. Your dad shouldn’t be able to control every aspect of your life.”

“Yeah, well, free will doesn’t factor in to my father's prerogative,” Adrien replied.

“Well,” Marinette said, nudging him in the ribs, “If you ever want to run away from home, I have a nice couch.”

Adrien looked at her in surprise, and she smiled at him, before returning her attention to the TV. “Ooh, I love this part,” she said, settling into a more comfortable position. She was aware of Adrien continuing to watch _her_ , not the TV, and awkwardly peered at him. “What’s the matter?” she asked, a little bashfully.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s just…” he sighed. “Sometimes I…”

Whatever he was going to say, he didn’t say it. Instead, he finally turned his full attention to the TV, and it was her turn to watch him, before she realized she was staring, and quickly looked at the screen as well.

“Adrien…” she said slowly. “I wanted to talk to you—about the babies.”

“What about them?” Adrien asked, his eyes still focused on the tv screen.

“Your father visited me, about a week ago,” she said.

He looked at her sharply. “ _What?”_ he demanded. “What did he say? What did he do?”

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head quickly, startled by the urgency and panic in his voice “Why would he have done anything to me?”

“Well,” Adrien said, frowning. “I’m not sure. Not _do_ anything to you, perhaps, but he might have, I don’t know… said something.”

“Well, he… _did_ ,” Marinette said slowly and hesitantly.

“What did he say?” Adrien asked, sounding as if he was about to consume something particularly disgusting.

“He wanted to know if you were the dad of, you know,” she said, patting her stomach.

“I told him I wasn’t.”

“I know.” Marinette sighed. “He wanted to make sure I wasn’t putting pressure on you to step in and _be_ a dad. That I wasn’t pressuring you to help me out too much.”

“What?” Adrien’s mouth dropped open, “That’s… that’s ridiculous, Marinette. _I’m_ the one who _wants_ to be involved!”

Marinette gazed at the tv, before looking back at Adrien. “I know, Adrien, but your dad has a point. I mean… they’re _not_ your kids. So… you shouldn’t have to feel any obligation. At all.”

“I don’t,” Adrien said firmly. “I don’t at _all._ It’s not because of obligation that I want to be involved, Marinette. It’s because I—”

He shut his mouth quickly, color rising up his neck into his cheeks and ears, and he quickly looked away.

“Oh,” she said. “I… I didn’t realize you still…”

“It’s hard to fall out of love, Marinette,” he mumbled.

“Oh,” she said blankly. “Well, in that case, perhaps it would be doubly important for you not to be as involved as you… were planning to be.”

He looked at her, his eyes wide. “What?” he asked. “Are you saying you don’t want me involved?”

“No, of course not,” she hurried to say, and his face fell. “I mean!” she corrected, cringing at her poor, thoughtless choice of words. “What I mean is, of _course_ I want you to be involved. But only because we’re _friends._ You know, babysit for me once in a while, or… go to piano recitals… not… bringing me chocolate covered popcorn at midnight and hang out with me because I can’t sleep and have sudden cravings.”

“So you want me to go?” he asked, after a few moments of silence.

“No…” she sighed again. “The truth is, I… I do want you to be involved. Because I also still…” she groaned. “This is all so messed up! Why couldn’t…”she exhaled her exasperation. “Maybe we should take a break from each other. Until things settle down and we’re not as hung up on each other.”

“I don’t want to do that,” he said quietly. “Marinette, whether or not we still like each other _that way_ , we’re still friends. I think we can make it work. I’m willing to make it work. Or at least try.”

She took in a deep breath. And nodded. “So am I, Adrien,” she answered. She reaches out a hand to him, and took his hand in hers. Realizing this act was both awkwardly timed and inconveniently suggestive, she quickly let go and brought her hand back to her lap. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m just… Oh… I’m just kind of… I can’t be with the father, and I can’t be with you… Not that I want to!” she said hurriedly, and then winced. “I mean, I _do_ want to,” she amended. “It’s more that I just… know that you don’t want—I mean… You know what? I’ll stop talking now.” She laughed nervously, focusing her attention on the tv.

She felt Adrien’s gaze, and found herself unable to refrain from looking at him. Her heart sped a new notches faster as he leaned towards her, a strange, longing look in his eye. He was going to kiss her. And what’s more—she wasn’t going to stop him. She had been waiting for this since she was a teenager. But when their faces were a foot apart, the masked face of Chat sprang into her mind, and she quickly drew away, blushing deeply in humiliation at what she was just about to do.

Adrien let out a small breath, and said, “Sorry—I shouldn’t have…”

“No,” she shook her head. “No, it’s okay, it’s… you know… I think we just need to work on boundaries, you know? Like, no kissing! And all that.”

He nodded.

“And to be honest,” she said. “It’s not like I _can’t_ kiss you.” She glanced at him, to see him studiously staring at the tv. “It’s not like I’m in a relationship.”

“Not even with the father?” he asked, still looking in the tv’s direction.

“No,” she shook her head. “Things can’t work out with him.”

“Oh.”

They sat in silence.

“I can’t…” he began. “I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. It was… inappropriate.”

“Because you want to be with your… is she your girlfriend?” Marinette asked. She had always been curious what the actual terms of Adrien’s relationship was with this mystery woman.

“She’s not, not… really,” he said. “Truth be told, I can’t really be with her either—but I can’t just…” he sighed for what seemed like the millionth time. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I just got caught up in the moment and… I don’t know, something about you reminded me of her and—” he stopped himself as Marinette stiffened.

“So…” she said slowly. “Do you think, maybe, what you like about me is because I remind you of her?”

“No, that’s not—”

“And that, maybe,” she continued, “The reason you were ever interested in me is because, perhaps subconsciously, you thought that I might… might be some kind of… stand-in?”

“No, Marinette, that’s not what I—”

“Well,” she said briskly, “At least I know that we made a good decision deciding nothing can happen between us. I’d rather not be a replacement bandaid.”

“Marinette…” he said softly, shocked. “I never meant it like that—I just meant, in this moment, the reason I tried kissing—and it wasn’t even _the only_ reason, it was just—”

“You know, thanks,” she said, “For the popcorn. But… I think I’m going to try to go back to sleep.”

He stared at her.

“Thanks for coming by,” she said, standing up.

“Marinette,” he rose with her, reaching out for her.

“It’s better this way,” she said, hugging herself. “At least I know that I never… _really_ had a chance with you.”

“That’s not—Marinette, I only meant…” he exhaled slowly. “I _do_ care about you, in _that way._ I… I _love_ you. I have for a few years now. It’s just… you also remind me of her. And that’s not… it’s not like I subconsciously see you as some kind of replacement for her or a way for me to live out some kind of fantasy. I’m just… I’ve just been going through a rough time and I’m confused.”

She frowned.

“She doesn’t want to be with me—I mean, I think she might, but she can’t, and she doesn’t want to enough to truly _try._ And I’m not going to pressure her to be with me, so I’m just going to let it go. But… that’s why I can’t be with you either. Because, since you do remind me of her, I don’t want either of you to think I’m just jumping ship and climbing aboard the nearest one.” He winced again. “I’m not making much sense.”

“Yeah,” she said. “No, you are. To be honest, sometimes I think that’s how it is with their father—I mean, I was in love with you since we were kids, and then I fell in love with him. Which is why I think I have to let go of both of you. Have a clean break. Romantically.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Same.”

“It would be too complicated,” she continued. “To try to figure things out, with either party.”

He nodded.

She took in a deep breath, and then stepped forward, drawing him into a hug. She breathed in, and smelled something familiar. Something like… cinnamon and clove. Where had she smelled that before? But then again, Christmas was just around the corner, and these were common scents this time of year.

“Want to finish the movie?” she asked.

She felt him nod against her neck and ear. “Good,” she said. “Because I don’t want you to go anytime soon.”

* * *

 

“Here is your agenda for the day, Mr. Agreste,” Nathalie said, handing him the tablet. He took it, gazing at it with scrutiny, and nodded.

“Thank you, Nathalie,” he replied.

“And…” Nathalie paused. “You received an email from a Mr. García. It was marked private—so I didn’t open it.”

“Good,” he answered, knowing that Nathalie did indeed read the email in question. Most likely she was interested in the results, having acquired the necessary blood samples from the medical institutions to provide for the test. He picked up the tablet and opened the mail app. “That is all, Nathalie.”

She nodded, and left the room.

He opened the email marked as from Mr. García, and read it carefully.

_Dear Mr. Agreste._

_I am pleased to inform you that the test has come back 99.98% positive._

_If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to call._

_Thank you for your business,_

_Buenas Tardes,_

_Sr. Garcia._

Gabriel leaned back in his seat, frowning. _99.98% positive._ That could mean only one thing.

There was a knock at the door, and it opened to reveal the very man that Gabriel found himself needing to speak to. “Father?” Adrien asked, standing in the doorway. “Question—I’m going on a camping trip—”

“A _camping_ trip?” Gabriel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, just for a week,” Adrien said. Gabriel’s eyes rose. “Okay, I’ll only go for a few days,” Adrien sighed. “But, anyway, a few of us are getting together, one last hoo-rah before Marinette’s baby is born—since after that she won’t be able to do camping trips easily for a year or two.”

“I see,” Gabriel said. “Very well, you have my consent.”

His son looked like he was going to protest Gabriel’s choice of words, but shut his mouth and nodded. “Speaking of Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Gabriel continued, as Adrien turned to leave. “May I ask you a question?”

“About Marinette?” Adrien looked over his shoulder at him, frowning. “What about?”

“What is the manner of your relationship with her?”

“Father,” Adrien said, and he turned to face him fully. “You know, Marinette told me about your little chat with her. You’ve got some nerve telling her to tell me not to be involved.”

“Why be involved in the way you have promised,” Gabriel said carefully, “When you are not the father of her children?”

“Because I’m her friend, and the father is some asshole who isn’t stepping up,” Adrien bit back.

Gabriel interwove his fingers, gazing shrewdly at his son. “And you have no idea who this man is?”

“No, I don’t, or I’d give him a reason or two to regret his assholery,” Adrien said irritably.

“I see,” Gabriel said. “So you will swear to me that you are… _not_ the father of Marinette’s children?”

“Are we back to this?” Adrien asked, crossing his arms. “Father, I swear to you, on my mother’s name, that I am _not_ Marinette’s childrens’ father.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, studying his son.

There was no lie in his eyes.

“Very well,” Gabriel said. “I believe you believe that.”

“I don’t _believe_ it, I _know_ it,” Adrien snapped. Then he sighed. “I’m sorry, Father. I’ve just been… over the edge lately. Honestly this camping trip sounds exhausting but I could use the escape.”

“And what about your studies?” Gabriel asked.

“That’s why I’m only missing a few days,” Adrien said. “I’ve already asked for an advance on my coursework, so I won’t fall behind.”

“Very well,” Gabriel said.

Adrien turned to go, “Good day, Father.”

“Good day, Adrien.”

Adrien left, closing the door behind him. Gabriel watched him leave, a puzzled feeling inside him. The test was 99.98% positive. In the terms of paternity testing, that was equal to a pure match. There was no doubt that Adrien was the father of Marinette’s children. So why did Adrien lie about being the father?

And why did Adrien fully believe his own lie?

But that was not the only problem that faced Gabriel Agreste. His son was the confirmed match for the father of a woman’s child. A woman’s _children._ And yet he believed fully that he was not the father, unless Adrien had become more adept had hiding the truth than Gabriel gave him credit for.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng… he knew her—not well, of course. He considered her a worthy adversary. Her work was quite good, and would only get better as she improved her skills. He had always had an interest in her work, ever since she won the competition with that exceptional feather bowler hat.

He did not lie to her, when he said he could see her as a worthy partner to his son. Indeed, as his son had little interest in the fashion world, Marinette would be a worthy successor to his own line.

He gazed out the window.

Marinette was pregnant with Adrien’s children. And though Gabriel could not claim to know his son well, he thought he knew him well en ought to know that he would not lie about fathering a child, nor hide that fact. Gabriel would never want his son to shirk responsibilities, though he would not have chosen this path for his son—fatherhood at such a young age. Adrien showed an interest in these children, but, confusingly enough, not as their father.

The children, Gabriel thought, narrowing his eyes as the realization sunk in, cementing itself within him, who were his _grandchildren._

* * *

 

“Here, hold my hand,” Adrien said, turning and offering a hand to Marinette. Marinette accepted it as he helped her across the stone path laid from one side of the small stream to the other.

“Thanks,” she said, beaming at him. He returned the smile, and she felt her heart flutter, her arms grow weak, and—she quickly cleared her head of such thoughts. She and Adrien were working hard not to think of each other in that way. It was silly to get her hopes up. He was just being nice.

“Nino, why’d you have to choose a campsite we have to climb over a river just to reach?” Alya asked, annoyance clear in her voice.

“Just think, Babe, you’ll have so much to talk about in your expose on the habits of camping millennials,” Nino joked, nudging Adrien playfully in the shoulder.

“Shut up,” Alya retorted, grinning. She jumped over the last two stones and landed next to Marinette. “How are you feeling Girl? Are my favorite little niece and nephew okay?” she cooed, bending over and looking level at Marinette’s stomach.

“That’s just creepy,” Marinette said, pushing Alya away just as playfully as Nino had nudged Adrien. “I’m a little cold.”

“Here,” Adrien said, shrugging off his parka. He hung it around Marinette’s shoulders, despite her protests. “Why don’t Nino and I go ahead and set up, and you and Alya can come at a slower pace.”

“Okay!” Alya said, pushing Nino forward from behind, while Marinette hugged Adrien’s parka closer around her, wondering if she should perhaps have given it back.

Nino complained loudly about chivalry not being dead, as he and Adrien disappeared into the tree line. “This is perfect,” Alya said. “This way we don’t have to do the hard work. I _knew_ you getting knocked up would be useful,” she added with a wink.

“Yeah…” Marinette said, sobering slightly. “Alya, perhaps we can take the long way tot he campsite, that way we can’t talk about something.”

“Sure,” Alya said, frowning in surprise at the melancholic look on Marinette’s face, and the tone in her voice. “What is it?”

They began walking, in a circle around the campsite, to come at it from the opposite direction. “So,” Alya said, “What is it?”

“It’s about Adrien,” Marinette said slowly.

“Oh!” Alya spun around to face Marinette, grabbing her by the shoulders, and staring at her. “If you’re going to tell me that Adrien really _is_ the father I’m going to—”

“Adrien isn’t the father,” Marinette said, exasperated.

“Oh,” Alya said, frowning. “Well, then what is it?”

“It’s… It’s about Adrien…”

“You said that already,” Alya said. Her eyes widened. “Are you guys dating?!”

“No!” Marinette exclaimed, and Alya looked surprised at the outburst. “I mean,” Marinette continued, blushing slightly in embarrassment at herself. “What I mean is… It’s not… it’s not like that. It can never be like that.”

“Never like what?” Alya asked.

“Never anything between me and Adrien. As much as I wish there could be something,” Marinette sighed. “Trust me, if I had the chance to be with Adrien for the rest of my life, the father of this child be damned,” she winced inwardly at these words, though she knew if there was anyone she could be brutally and selfishly honest with, it was Alya, “I _would_ be with him. I would be with him forever.”

“Then why are you acting all sad like it’ll never work with him?” Alya asked. “You’re acting like he’ll never be with you? Or is it _you_ that’ll never be with him?”

“He’s in love with someone else,” Marinette said softly.

_“What?!”_

“It’s true,” Marinette said with a much-too-nonchalant shrug. “He’s in love with someone else, and—”

“So… he doesn’t have feelings for you at _all?”_ Alya interrupted incredulously. “I _can’t_ believe that, Mari.”

“No, that’s not it,” Marintte said. “It’s not hat he doesn’t have feelings for me—”

“So he does but won’t be with you?” Alya interrupted again. “Is it because you’re having a kid? You know, men can be such _pigs_ sometimes—”

“Alya!” Marintte said loudly, causing her friend to pause and frown at her. “Adrien likes me a lot, and I think he would be perfectly willing to date me and maybe one day marry me and even adopt the twins, if it came to that. But that’s not what I’m talking about. We _can’t_ be together. He’s got someone he’s in love with, and I love the father of the twins. So… it’s not fair to either of us to replace someone else with each other.”

“Replace?” Alya asked, staring with incredulity at her. “Marinette. You’ve been gaga-eyes over Adrien since you were _fifteen._ I hardly think that’s _replacing_ him. But then… _why_ exactly, can’t you be with the father? I mean… wouldn’t that simplify things? On that end?”

Marinette shook her head. “I’m afraid it’s…” she gave out an exasperated sigh. “Right now, I think it’s best if I don’t see either one of them. Romantically.”

“Well, if you say so,” Alya said slowly, giving Marinette a concerned look. “I still think you’re making a mistake giving up on Adrien.”

“Yeah, me too,” Marinette said.

“Don’t toss him out of the picture just yet,” Alya added. “He might come around eventually.”

“ _Alya,”_ Marinette said, starting to feel slightly exasperated. “It’s not fair for me to _expect_ him to want to date me, let alone marry me and take on the responsibility of children who aren’t his. I can’t expect anything from him. We’re _friends,_ that’s all. And I’m okay with that.”

Alya gazed at her shrewdly. “Are you, though?” she asked. “Or are you just trying to convince yourself that you are?”

“I am,” Marinette said firmly. “I’m _completely_ fine with it. Do I wish that I could… date Adrien and marry him and be with him forever? Sure. But that’s not going to happen. I got knocked up by some other guy, a guy I have feelings for. And… I don’t think I can be with either guy, so… I’m okay with just being friends with both.”

“That’s a tough place to be,” Alya said, sighing. “I guess I gotta stop hoping the two of you get together someday.”

“Yes, you do,” Alya said. “Now, let’s head to the camp? I feel the need to eat something and maybe lie down… my back is _killing me.”_

* * *

 

She heard the tent flap unzip, just moments before she woke, and tilted her head back, to see Adrien grinning down at her. “Adrien…” she murmured. “What’s… what’s… what time is it?”

“It’s seven in the morning,” he said. He was shivering, and Marinette wondered again why they had decided to go _camping_ so close to winter. But it was still technically fall, and they were young, and stupid, and had all brought heaters to warm up their tents.

“You cold?” she asked. He paused, and nodded. She wondered why he had come to her tent, this early in the morning—when outside was still relatively dark. “Want to come in? The heater is pretty warm.”

“Thanks,” he said, relieved. He crawled into her tent. “My heater broke,” Adrien explained, “And Nino and Alya’s tent is too small to join them. Not that I’d want to,” he added, and Marinette chuckled. “Are you sure you’re safe here?” he asked, as he sat on her two person sleeping bag, and she considered telling him he could crawl in. It was large enough for the both of them. She had gotten it because of the pregnancy, and a regular sleeping bag would have felt a little cramped.

“Safe?” she asked.

“You know, from… whoever might come through the woods,” Adrien said. “This is a campsite—so it’s plausible someone might come walking through.”

She laughed at that. Laughed at the thought of some drunken idiot getting the better of _her._

Adrien frowned at her. “It’s not funny,” he said. “You could get hurt.”

She chuckled again, and said, teasingly, “Would you be sad, if I got hurt?”

He had a strange look on his face at that. As if her question hurt _him_. As if her, even teasingly, getting caught up in the moment, had insulted him. “I’m…sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

“You shouldn’t have,” he cut in. “I didn’t think you were capable of making such a bad joke.”

He looked away, at the small heater at her feet, his jaw working furiously. She rarely saw Adrien mad, and so it took her by surprise. “Adrien,” she said, propping herself up on her elbow. “Do you want to crawl in?” She was just thankful that Tikki had stayed behind in her apartment. It had been a tricky decision, but Tikki had agreed that it might be difficult to hide her in such close proximity to three other people, and worse, Marinette could possibly lose the miraculous.

He had stopped shivering mostly, and she wondered if he would take her offer out of context. If he would misunderstand. But he didn’t, it seemed, for he nodded thankfully and slipped into the sleeping bag, lying on his back, their arms and legs touching.

She felt warm rise to her cheeks. She had rarely been this close to Adrien, except when they hugged. But they had never laid this close to each other before. She hoped he could not feel her blushing.

“Well,” he said, cheerfully, though it sounded a bit forced, “This is certainly warmer than my own tent.”

She laughed at that, thankful to have something appropriate and good to laugh at. To laugh with. “You can sleep here for the rest of the camping trip,” she told him “If you want.”

“I’d like that,” he said.

The notion that ‘nothing could happen’ lay heavy on the air. And she was sure that it hung regretfully on both sides.

When the door flap unzipped a second time that morning, and Alya peered in, a devious and exalted look on her face, Marinette glared at her and smacked her face with a pillow. Marinette and Adrien got out of their tent, which Marinette thankfully needed little help with at this stage of her pregnancy.

She helped make breakfast, but mostly they ate goods from Marinette’s parent’s bakery. Then, they went on nature walks, and enjoyed the peaceful silence of the woods, but the cold air and wind soon sent them shivering back to their campsite, where they huddled around the campfire.

By about nine in the evening, Marinette yawned, and told everyone she was going to bed. Nino had teased her, calling her an old woman. But after she had dressed in her pj’s, crawled into her sleeping bag, and was starting to fall asleep, she heard the door unzip again, and a warm body slipped into the sleeping bag beside her.

Which made all the difference.

* * *

 

“This is honestly the most free I’ve felt in ages,” Adrien noted, as Marinette and he were packing up their tents.

“Oh?” Marinette asked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you know, that I’m…” he squinted. “Well, it’s just… living at home. It’s kind of a drag.”

“Because your father is overbearing?” Marinette asked, folding the conjoined sticks that held the tent up and stuffing them in the bag.

“Pretty much,” Adrien said. “I just wish I had a good chance to get away. I would give anything to live on my own.”

Marinette considered this, and was about to suggest something rather… inconspicuous, but decided against it. Until she thought about it a little more. Considered all the angles.

As they drove back, Adrien driving, and Marinette in the front seat, Nino and Alya sleeping in the back seat, Marinette took her chance. “Adrien,” she said. “Would you like to move in with me?”

The car swerved slightly, and Marinette was worried that Nino and Alya might wake up, but they didn’t. She didn’t exactly want them a part of this conversation.

“What?” Adrien finally asked.

“Do you want to move in with me,” she said. “I mean… not, _together,_ together, I just mean… as a roommate. I have an extra room in my apartment. It’s not… very big, I use it as a storage room right now. But it might do. Of course, you might want your own place…”

“No, I—” Adrien began. He was silent for a long while, before he spoke again. “I’d love to, but I’m not sure my father would agree to it.”

“Oh,” she said, and she hated how disappointed she felt. “Well, there’s a… the apartment across from me is going to be vacant next week—my neighbor is moving. She’s getting married,” she added, though she didn’t know why this was important. “To her fiancé—and they’re moving to Canada.”

“Oh,” he said. “Well… Can I look at it? Though to be honest, anything would be better than my current living situation.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll talk to my landlord and ask him. And you can stay with me until you move in, or find a different place.”

“Really?”

“I just offered to make you my permanent roommate, dummy,” she said, grinning at him. “Of course I’d let you, or any friend, crash on my couch until they were able to find something better.”

“Thanks—really, _thanks,”_ he said. His voice was slightly thick, as if he were on the verge of being emotional.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m just… things have been tough.”

“With your father.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Well, yes, technically. But also with someone else.”

“This person you like.”

“Yeah.”

She stared out the window. Reminder of this… other woman, hit her like a brick wall. And yet, how did she know _she,_ Marinette, wasn’t an ‘other woman’? How did she know that she wasn’t… the person who might get in the way of Adrien’s true happiness? But she wasn’t going to, she reminded herself. She was his friend, his confidant, and perhaps, if she was lucky, his soul mate.

And romance had no need to come into that equation.

“Here,” she said, bending over and digging her phone out of her purse. “I’m going to call my landlord right now and tell her that you’re going to look at the apartment. Later today?”

He nodded eagerly.

“Alright,” she said, finding her landlord in her quick dial list.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued…
> 
> So sorry again this chapter is late! I’ll try to squeeze in another chapter before the end of March :)
> 
> Also sorry if there were any mistakes, and if you see me mix up names (ie Chat instead of Adrien or vice versa) please feel free to let me know so I can fix it :)
> 
> Also this chapter sees the start of Adrien's... uh... how would one call it... full descent into Angst Land. So if he becomes a bit obnoxious in the next couple chapters it's because he's Suffering TM ;D 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> See you soon!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This chapter is really short! But the next chapter is much longer, so hopefully that’ll make up for it! Also, it’s short because of an ill-timed cliffhanger. But oooh so worth it. And cliche. But hey! We already knew that is to be expected ;)

 

“I’m guessing you haven’t told your father that you’re moving out,” Marinette asked, as Adrien and she climbed the steps to the second floor of the building after her landlady.

“No, I haven’t,” he answered. He looked worried. Worried, most likely, about what his father would say when he heard the news. The news that Adrien was going to move out, get a job, and start living an independent life.

“It’ll be alright,” she told him. “Your father can’t _force_ you to stay home. You’re an adult and you can choose to do whatever you want.”

“Tell that to _him,”_ Adrien muttered.

“Alright,” her landlady said, stopping by the door across from Marinette’s where the other apartment was. The old woman unlocked the door and opened it, and the three stepped in.

It was similar to Marinette’s apartment, except reversed, and there was a large window that let lots of light in, instead of a balcony and doors. Adrien looked around with the sort of look that told Marinette he could _see himself_ _living here._ After inspecting each room, and many of the appliances, utilities, and other aspects of the apartment, he told Marinette’s landlady he’d take the place.

The woman shook his hand, and went downstairs to get the papers to sign.

“Okay,” Marinette laughed, “But you should have had it inspected before you agreed to take it.”

“I don’t even care,” Adrien said, “I want it. It’s perfect.”

“Good,” she said. “This way you can be on call at the drop of a hat.”

He laughed at that, though they both knew she was joking. They had both agreed that he was no longer going to be taking such a large role in her pregnancy. They had both agreed reluctantly.

The landlady came back, Adrien signed the papers, wrote a check, and hurried off to his father’s mansion to pack his things.

“I _really_ ,” Marinette said to Tikki, when she returned to her own apartment a little later, “hope that his father isn’t going to be too upset.”

“I’m not sure,” Tikki said. “But then again, he did let Adrien go on a camping trip. Did the two of you really sleep together?”

“Yup,” Marinette said. Then, feeling the need to clarify, she added, “But no sex.”

“I thought so,” Tikki said wily. “I wish I could have gone… but I understand why it made sense for me to stay here.”

“I’m glad you did stay!” Marinette said. “I don’t fancy sharing a tent with you _and_ Adrien.” She paused, and held out her hands for Tikki, who flew into them. “I’m glad to be back though, though I’m glad I went. It won’t be long before that’s impossible, because of the weather, and because of the pregnancy. And when the babies are born…”

“ _Please_ tell me you aren’t calling them Leia and Luke,” Tikki said.

“No, I’m not,” Marinette chuckled. “Maybe… _Thomas?_ ”

“And for the girl?”

Marinette shook her head. “Don’t know. Can’t decide. Should probably consult Chat about the names.”

“Yes, you probably should,” Tikki agreed. “But for now, just focus on the fact that _Adrien_ is going to be living across the hall form you! That’s something to celebrate!”

“If only I could have some wine,” Marinette said wryly. “Or champagne. I should get some anyways, to share with Adrien.”

“Good idea,” Tikki said. “He should be getting home by now, right?”

“Right,” Marinette said. She grabbed her purse and coat, and Tikki quickly tucked herself into Marinette’s scarf, as they headed into the hallway and down the steps.

 

* * *

 

Nathalie watched the closed door with the air of a person who was watching a storm brew. And a storm it was. He could hear the loud conversation—or argument, if one chose to use that words, from within, catching words here and there, when the voices escalated.

The subject matter of the conversation was evident, however, despite Nathalie’s difficulty in hearing everything. Adrien was moving out, and Mr. Agreste was displeased with this decision. Personally, Nathalie was concerned. Concerned that Adrien was moving out, for the boy had little experience beyond the protection of his father, and his father, in his anger at being spited against, would most likely cut Adrien off from that protection and support.

Which means Adrien’s life would undoubtedly become far more complicated than he was used to.

It was also concerning that the Dupain-Cheng girl seemed to be involved somehow.

Nathalie was, of course, partial to the secret, having illegally acquired the necessary samples from the medical offices. A secret that only Mr. Agreste, Dr. Garcia, and, of course, the parents in question, knew.

That Adrien was the father of Miss Dupain-Cheng’s children.

What was most concerning was the fact that Adrien did not seem to want to be the father—that was not the boy she knew. That was not the boy she helped raise. And yet, he seemed impertinently determined to be involved in the children’s life. Why would he hide the fact that he was the father?

Of course, it would be slightly scandalous, but it was not as if they were children. They were adults now. A quick marriage would have solved any unnecessary gossip.

But no… Adrien and Miss Dupain-Cheng had hidden the fact from everyone. But a paternity test conducted by an impartial party was not to be disputed. At least, not by her.

She heard Adrien give a loud answer, and the door swung open. She stood slightly, and Adrien stormed across the hall, and then paused, turning to look at her, a look of slight sadness on his face. “I’m leaving,” he said. “Some friends are coming over to help me pack.” He looked as though he was going to say something else, but decided against it, turning and walking up the steps.

Nathalie waited, and waited, until Mr. Agreste came out of the dining hall.

“Nathalie,” he said, gazing up the steps, and Nathalie came forward, waiting for her boss to give her a command or request.

“Yes, sir?” she asked, finally.

“See that Adrien is moved out completely,” he said. “I will permit him to live independently, but he’ll have to do it on his own. And…” he turned to look at Nathalie, “Since he won’t let _me_ do it, check in on him every once in a while. Make sure he’s doing… alright.”

He turned and walked up the stairs himself, but instead of heading down the hall that lead towards the bedrooms, he turned towards his studio.

Nathalie nodded, to no one in particular.

Yes, she would want to make sure Adrien was doing well. And, of course, she knew that Mr. Agreste would have an interest in his son’s affairs and wellbeing, and most of all, the manner of his relationship with Miss Dupain-Cheng and her twins.

* * *

 

“You know, for someone who just got his independence, he doesn’t look very happy,” Alya said.

The party had cleared, leaving a mess behind, and too many empty bottles to count. It had been intended to be a small gathering, to celebrate Adrien’s new… independence. But Kim, who had helped Adrien move his belongings, had decided to invite most of their high school friends. And it turned into a much _bigger_ gathering.

Nino frowned. “I know,” he agreed. “I tried talking to him—but he’s pretty depressed, yo. I think… I think he might be _depressed_.”

“Well, his life is totally upheaved,” Alya said. “And… you know… I think things aren’t great in his private life.”

“Yeah…” Marinette agreed, thinking about his mystery lover and how he, apparently, couldn’t be with her. She wished he would tell her, Marinette, about her, and _why_ it wouldn’t work out. She could help him work through his feelings, and his sadness. But that might be a little inappropriate, considering _she_ was desperately in love with _him_.

“He’s super drunk,” Nino said. “Someone should stay here and get him to bed.”

“I’ll do it,” Marinette said. “I live across the hall, so it won’t be hard to go home after cleaning up.”

“Right,” Alya said, looking relived. “We can help clean up as well.”

“No, no,” Marinette shook her head, smiling at them. “It’s fine. Go home. I can clean up whatever I don’t get to tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks, dudette,” Nino said, clapping Marinette on the shoulder, as he and Alya left.

Marinette took in a deep breath, and turned around, facing Adrien. He sat on the couch, staring at his drink morosely. She set her jaw, and walked over to him, sitting down beside him. He hardly reacted, and for a moment, she thought he didn’t realize at all that she was sitting there.

“My life sucks,” he said, finally.

“Oh?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I… I’m… It sucks.”

“I’m sorry, Adrien,” she said.

“Yeah, me too.” He paused, before continuing. “I can’t be with… with…the woman I love.”

She wondered who he was talking about. Of course, it had to be his mystery woman. She wasn’t convinced he hadn’t fallen out of love with _her,_ Marinette, since they agreed to just be friends.

“Either of them,” he continued, startling her.

“What?” she asked, looking at him in surprise, and much to her surprise, she found that he was looking at her intently.

“You look so familiar,” he murmured.

“What?” she asked, amused. “A ‘little’ familiar? I thought we were _friends.”_

“You know what I’m talking about,” he said, though she had hardly a clue what he meant. He reached out and touched her face. “I think I’ve seen you somewhere.”

She laughed, but he looked so serious, she sobered instantly.

“I love you,” he said softly.

Her breath caught in her throat. His words caught her off guard, causing her sense of up and down to shift. Suddenly, though she had refrained from drinking all night, she felt as though _she_ were the one who was insensibly drunk. “Adrien…” she murmured. “You shouldn’t say things you don’t mean.”

“I’m—not—I _mean_ them,” he protested, and his enthusiasm made his argument sound like that of a five year old’s.

“You’re _drunk,”_ she said.

“I love you—I—I _love…_ _you,_ Marinette,” he said, reaching out for her and taking her arms in his hands. He drew close to her, and she could smell the alcohol on his breath as he drew her gently and desperately towards him. The longing in his touch seared into her skin, leaving her breathless.

“O-kay,” she said quickly, pulling herself out of his grip, before he had a chance to land a kiss. “Adrien, _you’re drunk._ We’re _friends._ Let’s get you to bed.”

He sat there, staring at her, confusion on his face.

“Maybe, if you remember this in the morning, and you’re sober, we can kiss. Once you’ve… brushed your teeth,” she added. “But you’re drunk right now, and it would be… really, _really_ inappropriate for me to kiss you. No matter how much I want to. Like… I really, _really_ want to kiss you—but… right now… that would be bad. So…let’s get you to bed.”

She walked towards him, keeping her face pointedly away from his, and put an arm around him and helped him to his feet. He put both arms around her. “You’re strong,” he said admirably.

“I know,” she replied. Despite this fact, they staggered to his bedroom, for he was uncertain on his feet, and she could _swear_ he was making it more difficult than it needed to be on purpose.

By the time they got to his bedroom, he was close to dropping off to sleep, and when they were just at his bed, she felt him grow heavier in her arms, as he finally fell asleep. Or ‘passed out’ might be more accurate words. She gave out a yelp of dismay and shock when he collapsed on his back on the bed, and she down with him. She lay there, eyes wide, his arms tight around her.

“Adrien…” she hissed. “Adrien… wake _UP.”_

She heard (and felt) slow, heavy breathing on her neck, and knew that he was far past the point of waking up anytime soon. She tried prying his arms from his death grip around her, but found to her dismay, and slight, crude interest, that _he_ was quite strong as well.

“How can you have such a tight hold on me when you’ve passed out?” she demanded, as if he could answer. Her irritation at the current situation seemed to grow and dissipate in tidal waves, flowing in and out of prominence.

She, herself, was close to falling asleep. After all, sleeping on the ground while pregnant with twins was not _very_ _enjoyable_ , even _if_ one’s tent partner was Adrien, and she had done that for a couple nights prior to this one. Ironic, that she should be sharing his bed officially and she wanted nothing more than to get out of it.

Realizing she wouldn’t be able to get out of his bed anytime soon, she allowed herself to drift asleep, resigning to figuring out a solution to her current situation when she woke up and Adrien—hopefully—lessoned his grip on her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay I know, I know, “accidentally sharing a bed” is the worst of all tropes/cliches. But it was right there for the taking and man I am not one to miss an opportunity like that.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for being so patient guys :)
> 
> Also: just a sidetone that further proves the silliness of this story: I’m banking on the (possibly fake) assumption that Tikki and Plagg can go a relatively safe distance from their holders. Not close to a mile, but across the hall in a  different apartment. Otherwise, honestly, I can’t imagine they wouldn’t have figured out about each other and Adrien and Marinette and the whole mess by now haha.
> 
> Anyway! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

 

Marinette felt a mouth nuzzle her neck. Which was weird, she thought. Was there a dog in her bed? No… a cat… but she didn’t _have_ a cat. Nor did any imaginary cat of her’s have such bad breath. She opened her eyes, and saw a wild mess of blonde hair, and realized that the ‘cat’, was no cat at all, and was actually a man.

A man who lay, his arms around her, head buried into her neck, his mouth resting against her collarbone, their stomachs touching, which wasn’t difficult, considering hers had a definite roundness to it. And, somewhat alarmingly, she could _feel_ quite clearly his own reaction to her body pressed against him.

And she realized this man was _Adrien._

And that she _hadn’t_ woken up in a timely manner the night before—but had _somehow_ slept all the way through the night. “Shit…” she murmured. Somehow, during the night, she had turned around to face Adrien like he was her body pillow she had back in her own bed. A self heating body pillow had most likely seemed _incredible_ to her sleeping pregnant mind.

She tried to remove his arms from around her, but he held on fast, murmuring his protests, and moving impossibly closer to her. “Adrien… _Adrien…”_ she said, louder the second time.

Again, he murmured his protests. It wasn’t until she gave him a hard shove and shouted his name in his ear, that he winced and moved away like he was burned. That’s right, she thought, he was woefully drunk last night. He must be pretty hungover.

She felt cold all of a sudden. How would she convince him nothing happened between them last night?

He opened his eyes, bloodshot and bleary. He looked horrible—yes, hungover indeed. “What is…” his words dropped away when he saw her, laying there, and she took in a deep breath.

“Uh,” she said, “Nothing happened, so you know. We just fell asleep here.”

He stared at her, and then glanced downwards, and back at her. “Uh huh,” he agreed, voice voice tired and hoarse and a little bland in surprise. He seemed beyond, or perhaps not quite _capable of,_ comprehensible words and sentences.

“Right,” she said, “Well, I should be getting up—and cleaning up.” She sat up slowly, unable to move too quickly from a lying down position in her current bodily predicament, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She stood up, and walked quickly from the room.

She began to clean up, and sometime later—she tried not to think about what Adrien was getting up to in there, and preferred to think he was recovering from his hangover, and maybe his shock of finding her in his bed—he emerged.

She turned to look at him. “Morning,” she said. “Uh… I’m sorry—you kind of grabbed me and—”

“Oh God,” he said, his eyes widening, “I didn’t… do anything to you, did I?”

“No!” she said, surprised and distressed he had misinterpreted what she was saying. “No, I mean… I was helping you to bed, and you had your arms around me, and you fell into bed… and I couldn’t get out, so… I fell sleep. I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” he said. “Well, as long as… I didn’t… try anything… untoward.”

She paused, considering telling him about the almost kiss, but decided not to, unless _he_ brought it up. “Do you want breakfast?” she asked, and almost laughed at the stricken look on his face.

“I’m still digesting the… spirit store I singularly consumed last night,” he murmured, walking over to the couch and lying down. She continued to clean up, not minding that he wasn’t helping. He would, she knew, once he got his bearings and overcame some of his nausea. She was lucky he didn’t vomit during the night. Perhaps, she reasoned, it was good she slept in his bed. If something had happened to him she would be there to help.

After a few minutes, he got up and helped her clean up, and they soon made short work of it. “Thanks,” he said. “For helping out.”

“No prob,” she replied, grinning at him. “Thanks for, uh, not being angry with me for crashing in your bed.”

“Well, from the sounds of it, I made an ass of myself,” he said, with a shrug.

“So you don’t… remember anything from last night?” she asked, tentatively.

“Should I?” he asked, wincing in anticipation.

“No,” she said, slowly shaking her head. “No… nothing important happened.”

They stood there, and she wished she could tell him—tell him he told her he loved her, and that he tried to kiss her with such passion that for a moment, she was reminded of Chat. She wanted to ask him if he thought it was just the drink that made him say and try to do those things, or if he had authentically meant them. Because if he had…

Perhaps it was better this way, she thought dismally, as she arrived in her own apartment. They had agreed to be friends, and friends didn’t tell each other they were in love with each other, and almost kiss each other.

Or did they? Alya and Nino were… well, Marinette wasn’t sure if they were exactly _dating._ They weren’t exactly _exclusive…_ but they weren’t just friends. But they were friends _first_ , so it _was_ possible, she supposed.

But she also knew that being with Adrien would complicate things.

She was guilty _enough_ about Chat. She didn’t need to pile more guilt onto the platter by getting together with Adrien and allowing him to replace Chat completely.

“Ugh,” she muttered, as Tikki appeared from the bedroom and flew onto the coffee table.

“What is it, Marinette?” TIkki asked worriedly. “Why didn’t you come home last night? Oh! Did you stay at Adrien’s apartment?”

“Yeah…” Marinette groaned, sinking into the sofa. “It’s so unfair, TIkki. I wish I could just…” She groaned incomprehensibly. “I wish I could be with both Adrien and Chat Noir. Is that so much to ask?”

She and Tikki looked at each other for a few seconds, before they both burst into laughter at the ridiculousness of such a notion.

* * *

 

She didn’t recognize the number—in fact, she thought, as she stared at her phone, in the midst of packing—she didn’t even think she ever received a call from it ever before. And yet, as she stared at the numbers on the screen, she could have sworn that she… perhaps… _did_ recognize it. Where had she seen this particular set of numbers before?

“Huh,” she said, before answering and bringing the phone up to her ear. “Hello? Marinette Dupain-Cheng, how can I help you?”

“Miss Dupain-Cheng?” a voice asked from the other end.

“Yes,” she said, a little slowly.

“My name is Mr. Chevalier, I am with the board of admission for PFW.”

Her eyes slowly widened, and her breath caught in her throat.

“We are very happy to accept your application, and welcome you on board with the rest of our new designers,” Mr. Chevalier said.

She opened her mouth to speak, but found that nothing could come out.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng?” he asked, concern in his voice. “Are you there?”

“I’m—” her voice was squeaky and cracking, and she quickly cleared her throat and started again. “I’m here, thank you. Thank you so much—I… honestly didn’t expect my application to be… put through…”

“Yes, well, it’s an intense vetting process,” he said, as if this proved her worth, and disproved it as well. “You’ll be presenting at the Fall collection of next year—does that work for you?”

It was merely a formality, him asking this question. Of course it worked for her. When one got into Paris Fashion Week, one didn’t turn it down.

“Ye—yes,” she said, realizing she would have two seventh month olds by then. “Yes,” she said firmly. “Yes, that does work for me. Thank you, thank you so much—”

“We expect to see your initial sketches for the show by June,” he said. And hung up.

She stared at her phone, and a took a few steadying breaths. She… she couldn’t believe it.

She… got _into_ Paris Fashion Week.

But she knew that Mr. Agreste was on the board of admission for new designers. Why would he vote her in? Knowing that she was part of the reason his son left home? She tapped her fingers against her side.

She would have to think about that later. For now, she needed to get ready. She had a lot of work to do. There was the department store contract to design for, and, of course, a haute couture line for the fashion show.

She should get an assistant, she thought. And… she will _really_ need a nanny, when the babies were born.

* * *

 

“Girl!” Alya said, her voice high with excitement, “I am so _proud_ of you!”

“Thanks!” Marinette said, and they hugged enthusiastically.

“You should totally have Adrien model your works, it would cause _such a stir,”_ Alya said. “Considering he’s retired from modeling after all. After years of modeling for his dad, he returns to model for _you._ I bet he’d do it.”

“Well, I’ll ask him, but… I don’t want to put any pressure on him. He’ll be in grad school then. And it’ll be around midterms so… he’ll probably be super busy.”

“Right,” Alya said. “True.”

They walked for a while longer, before some trinkets caught their eye in the store window. They went inside, did some more shopping, and left. “Think Nino would like these?” Alya asked, squeezing the little toys of little cartoon eyeballs.

Anyone else would probably be insulted if their significant other gave them _those_ for a Christmas gift. But Nino and Alya had the same, quirky sense of humor. In a way, they were perfect for each other. Content to have as much or little of their relationship as they both felt was needed.

“I don’t know what to give Adrien for Christmas,” Marinette said.

“A diamond ring saying, ‘you should have done this a long time ago?’” Alya suggested.

“Shut up,” Marinette muttered, nudging Alya playfully in the ribs. “You know what I mean. What do I get the guy I’m in love with?”

And what would she get Chat Noir? Usually, she got him something that represented a pun, and he loved that. But this year… if felt crass and inappropriate to give him a joke gift. She wanted to give hims something that _mattered._

Like the chance to raise his own children?

She let out a soft groan of guilt.

“What is it?” Alya asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” Marinette muttered. “It’s just… I don’t know what to give Adrien. I usually make him something… but since we both know we… you know… like-like each other… I feel like I should give him something special? _Unless_ …”

“Unless what?” Alya asked, a little tiredly.

“Unless I should give him something meaning _less_ to show that I’m over him,” Marinette suggested.

“But you’re not, and besides. The two of you are friends. Best of friends. Wouldn’t that just be…insensitive?”

“Oh… Right,” Marinette said slowly. “No, that’s a… that’s a good point. I suppose I could knit him a scarf… but… I’m so absolutely _swamped_ with designing everything… I don’t think I’ll be able to find the time.”

“And I don’t want you overworking yourself, babe,” Alya said, slinging and arm around Marinette’s shoulders. “You have two little precious, itty, bitty, perfect, little—”

“Okay, okay,” Marinette laughed, shoving Alya off herself. “You’ve made your point. I’ll stick to my plan of not making a nothing for anyone this year. Definitely going to take a bite out of my bank account.”

“Just get cheap gifts for everyone,” Alya said. “That’s what I do. That’s what _most_ millennial do. Gotta survive.”

“True,” Marinette mused, looking through a window. She saw something inside, something that caught her eye. It was an old antique shop, and she realized, that she might have _just_ found the perfect gift for Adrien.

“Let’s stop in here for a bit,” she said, nodding her head towards the shop door. “I want to get something in here.”

“What?” Alya asked, but followed her in dutifully.

 

* * *

 

She had wanted to give him his Christmas gift. She wouldn’t get a chance to see him in the next week, after all, sketches for the summer line at the department store was due January second, and… the festivities of Christmas would take up much of her free time. Plus… it was getting difficult to move around as Ladybug, and as much as she hated to admit it, she might not get a chance to transform too many times again.

She waited patiently on their usual roof, for him to arrive, and found that she was shivering. It was cold, winter, and she hadn’t thought to bring a jacket. Well, she had, but she knew that Chat might recognize one of Marinette’s.

“Hey,” she heard a soft voice say from behind her, and turned. He seemed to do that lately, appear behind her. Perhaps to catch a glimpse of her before she had a chance to ruin things?

“Hi,” she answered.

They stood awkwardly, and Marinette finally said, “Happy Holidays.”

He nodded. “You too.”

They waited for a bit awkwardly. Then he thrust something in her direction. Surprised, she took the package. “What’s this?”

He gave her an appraising look. “What do you think?” there was a slightly _amused_ note to his voice, and she blushed in embarrassment. Of course, it was a Christmas present.

“You didn’t have to,” she said, as she began opening it. She found, to her surprise, it was a jewelry case. She almost didn’t open it, fearing it was attached to a proposal. Sensing her fear, and looking a little weary for it, Chat said, “It’s not anything special, I’m just not creative.”

“Oh,” she hated how relieved she sounded. She risked a glance at him, and saw his mouth set in a firm line. Guiltily she looked back at her gift, and slowly opened it. Inside, was a beautiful necklace, a thin chain, with a small red, blueish black, and two light blue gemstones inlaid together. Spinel… she thought, recognizing at least the bluish black ones. The other ones seemed to be of the same variety, but she couldn’t be sure. “Chat, I can’t accept this.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“It’s…” she floundered for a moment. “It must have been expensive.”

He shrugged. “Just the setting costs. I already had the gems. From my mom,” he explained at her questioning look. “She had bought them, and was going to put them into something new—but she never got the chance.” His voice grew small and forlorn, as it always did at the mention of his mother. “Anyway, I wanted to give them to you. I thought it was fitting.”

“Well, as long as it wasn’t too expensive,” she said, looking down at the necklace. She wouldn’t be able to wear it around her neck—Chat might see it. She would have to put it somewhere inconspicuous. Like in her bra. “Well,” she said, removing the bulky card tucked into the crook of her arm. “This is your gift. I’m not sure it’ll stand up compared to yours, but…”

He accepted it, looking a little disappointed. She suddenly felt stupid, getting him a _card._ Sure, what was inside the envelope besides the card was what mattered, but she felt foolish, knowing that he put such care and thought and _expense_ into her gift, and she gave him a silly—

He nearly dropped what was inside the card, for the card was one of those recordable ones, and she had managed to record something different than the usual ‘I love you’s’ that people often recorded.

A fluttering of a heartbeat—two, in fact, she realized with a painfully sharp intake of panicked breath, came steadily from the card.

“Is this—?” he asked, his eyes wide. “The baby’s heartbeat?”

She nodded.

He took in a deep breath, slightly unsteady towards the end, his eyes growing slightly misty. “Why are there two?” he asked, after a moment.

“The other one is mine,” she lied, hoping he would not hear her own very faint heartbeat in the recording. But it did not seem like the mechanics of the card were that advanced.

He nodded. And lifted the device.

“A more long-lasting recording,” she explained. “For when the card runs out of battery.”

“Thank you,” he said, looking at her. “I can’t—” he broke off. And she moved towards him, pulling him into a hug.

She didn’t know _why_ she did it, but she needed to hug him, to hold him in her arms. Perhaps it was the fact that she was in need of physical contact herself. Being pregnant did not always make it easy to be single, and being a single mom didn’t make the dating pool easy to jump into. But more than that, she wanted to comfort him, to let him know it would all be okay, even if she didn’t know it herself.

So when she kissed him, she didn’t think either of them were surprised.

His hands, wrapped tightly around her, shifted to her waist, gripping her hips as he deepens the kiss, a raw desire filling both of them. He wrapped his arms around her again, trying to bring her as close to him as he could, and she knew that they both wanted what they couldn’t have. But it was Christmas.

She broke away from him, and looked him in the eye. “One last time?”

“You say that like we’ve been making a habit of it,” he murmured into her neck, and there was something about the way that his breath and lips felt against her neck that she found familiar, but she pushed the thought of Adrien out of her mind, not wanting to feel guilty at a time like this.

“The usual place?” she joked. She meant the same place as last time—the apartment that always seemed empty. Sure it was technically ‘breaking and entering’, but they had both figured Paris owed them her dues. “And Chat,” she said, “Lights off, and we have to leave before the sun is up. We can’t—“

“I know,” he interrupted tiredly, “We can’t know.”

They stood there, close together, arms around each other, and she nodded, moving away from him. “I’ll see you there in an three hours.”

“Three hours?” Chat asked, alarmed.

“I’m _pregnant,”_ she said, “I don’t exactly shave that often these days.”

He frowned at her. “I don’t… care… about that sort of thing, you know.”

“Yeah but…”

He shrugged. “If you want to, but I’m not in love with you, or attracted to you, because of your shaved legs. I mean,” he added, with a crooked smile, “I am a _cat_.”

She stared at him, and she wondered for a moment if he thought _she_ thought he was lying. But she stared because she found it odd that she had found someone who could convince her so clearly, with only a few simple words, a joke, really, that he completely and utterly loved her.

Perhaps she was wrong to keep him out of her life.

“Remember,” she said, mostly to herself, “No finding out. We can meet in fifteen minutes.”

Chat seemed to sigh in relief, and she turned and walked quickly to the fire escape, and climbing down to the street. She quickly looked around, to make sure that no one was around, especially Chat, and transformed back into Marinette.

Tikki came zipping into view. “Are you sure about this, Marinette? It might complicate things if you start things up again.”

“I’m choosing not to see it that way,” Marinette said, reaching for her earrings. “I’m seeing it as closure. And… goodnight, Tikki, I’ll see you in a few hours. I just… don’t want you around.”

“Right,” Tikki said, nodding solemnly.

Marinette removed her earrings, and placed them very carefully in the jewelry case that carried Chat's gift. She paused fora moment, before heading down the street.

* * *

 

Adrien waited with baited breath for Ladybug to arrive. He wasn’t sure if he should undress or stay dressed, so he chose somewhere in between, removing his sweater and shirt.

He heard the door open, and turned, but could not see Marinette herself. The shades were shut, and the moon waned, so there was no light in the room.

“Where are you?” she whispered, and he reached out and blindly searched for her. “A flaw in our plan,” she laughed, almost a girlish giggle, when they finally reached each other.

He laughed as well, but was distracted from the humor of their situation when she pulled him into a kiss. She was undressed, the feeling of her body against his seemed to sear through his body.

He wasn’t sure how they made it to the bed without falling over or tripping on something, but they did.

* * *

 

“I love you,” she had whispered, when all was said and most importantly, done. They had laid in each other arms for a long while, before finally falling asleep. “One of us needs to leave early,” she had said. “Before the sun comes up. Alright?”

He had nodded, but natural instincts were overcoming him, and he was drifting to sleep, so when he woke, the sun penetrating his eyelids, he thought perhaps it was a dream. It was too good to believe, Ladybug telling him she loved him. Even if it might be the last time she could.

He opened his eyes, and saw long, tousled, slightly tangled black hair. His eyes widened. She was here—the sun was up. Neither of them had woken up in time.

His heart beating in his throat, he didn’t know if he dared. If he did, he couldn’t do anything about it. He’d have to resign to silently— _secretly_ —knowing. He swallowed, and at the last moment, closed his eyes. He couldn’t betray her trust… but if he never revealed he knew… perhaps…

And he didn’t even know her in real life, presumably. There was no reason for him to ever see her on the streets of a crowded city.

And he could swear himself to never revealing he knew the truth, if he ever _did_ see her. It would be difficult, but he knew he could do it.

He opened his eyes, looking down to the face a few inches below his.

And it seemed his heart stopped beating.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for a cliff hanger so soon after the last one… But… this was too good an opportunity ;)
> 
> Next time: How will Adrien manage to keep the secret secret? How is he going to react to knowing he’s the father of Marinette’s babies? That Marinette is Ladybug??? That he’s actually the father of TWINS?????  You’ll just have to wait and see :) (The next chapter is kinda angsty so like… bear with me folks, it’s gonna be tough going)


	10. Chapter 10

Adrien broke into a run once he made it outside the building, digging into his coat pocket and taking out the miraculous, slipping it onto his finger. Despite being in peak physical shape, he found that he was severely out of breath by the time that Plagg appeared.

“What’s going on?” Plagg yawned. “You know—you could have put the miraculous on before now. It’s morning already. Also, I’m hungry. Got any camembert on you?”

Adrien shook his head, a sharp constricting feeling in his chest, and his breakneck speed was causing him to cough in the frigid morning air.

Ladybug.

Marinette.

He gave out another cough, his breath forming a thick mist in the air, and almost crashed into a woman.

_Twins._

He thundered to a stop before reaching a crosswalk, bending over, hands on his knees, eyes squeezed shut as he fought to breathe.

“Man, you’re really out of shape,” Plagg noted from his coat pocket.

Adrien shook his head, unable to speak until he stopped coughing. Then he straightened, the pain still in his chest. From running, or the magnitude of this shock, he couldn’t tell. “Did you know?” he asked, once he had regained control of his breathing, and crossed the street.

“Know what?” Plagg asked.

“About Ladybug? I mean, Marinette,” Adrien elaborated.

Plagg was silent. “What about them?” he prompted finally.

Adrien almost stopped in the middle of the road, but kept going to the other side. They reached a small park, which he cut through to the shortest route to his apartment, and he dug into his pocket and pulled out Plagg, who protested loudly. “That they’re the same person!” he explained, exasperatedly.

“What? They’re…oh…” Plagg stared at him with wide green eyes. “Marinette… and Ladybug are… the same…”

“You didn’t know?” Adrien interrupted, frowning.

“If I knew something like _that_ , don’t you think I would have told you by now?” Plagg demanded.

“I… I suppose so,” Adrien said, still feeling a little windblown from this whole affair. How could he have not _realized_ that Marinette and Ladybug were…

Plagg untangled himself from Adrien’s hand, and flew to hover a few inches from Adrien’s face. “Look, Man, you’ve got problems, but if it’s because the woman you love and the _other_ woman you love are the actually the _same person_ , than I’ve got something to tell you about life—”

“Just—” Adrien snatched Plagg out of the air and placed him back in his pocket. Plagg peeked out, and Adrien continued to walk back to his apartment.

Marinette and Ladybug. They were the same person.

That meant that Ladybug’s baby— _his_ baby, was also Marinette’s baby. But Marinette was having twins. So that meant—“She _lied_ to me,” he said, stopping short.

“What?” Plagg asked, sounding slightly weak without a ready dose of camembert.

“Ladybug—Marinette, lied to me,” he repeated, feeling a crushing cocktail of betrayal, hurt, and anger.

“Man, she probably doesn’t know,” Plagg yawned.

“Not that,” Adrien said, shaking his head. “She lied to me about being pregnant with twins. She said it was only one baby. She even lied about why there were two heartbeats—oh God, I’m such an idiot…” he ran his hand through his hair. “How could I have never realized that they were the same person? How did I just take her lies like that and didn’t question them? Why didn’t I realize she’s so obviously pregnant with twins? Why am I such a…”

“Listen,” Plagg said, slightly irritably. “There’s no use moaning and groaning.”

Adrien made a huff of disagreement.

“What are you going to do about it?” Plagg asked.

“What am I going to do?” Adrien turned to give the kwami an incredulous look. “I’ve got to tell her I _know_ —And tell her who I am.”

“Well, if that’s what you think is best,” Plagg said with a shrug.

“Are you… You’re not going to fight me on this?” Adrien asked.

“You’re a grown man, and if you’re right and Marinette _is_ Ladybug, then… it can’t be _that_ harmful a decision to make.”

Adrien stared at him, before looking forward, nodding firmly.

* * *

 

Marinette shifted slightly, reaching out blindly for Chat, but found to her dismay that he was gone. No… the sun was shining brightly through the window. That meant it was _good_ that he was gone. She sat up, wondering how she had managed to sleep so late, and when Chat had left. She looked throughout the apartment, but all traces of him were gone. Sighing, she returned, washed the sheets, made the bed, and quickly left before the superintendent realized that someone had spent the night here. As she put her earrings back on, and when Tikki materialize before her, Marientte said, “Well, that was a close call.”

“Did he find out?” Tikki asked, looking at Marinette in interest.

“No,” Marinette shook her head. At least… she didn’t think he did. But how would she find _that_ out?

She felt a stab of guilt—wishing that she could tell him the truth, or just not care as much… but… She sighed. She had built this path, and she needed to stick to it. She’d worry about the consequences later. She had plenty of time to tell Chat the truth, about her, and the babies. It would have to happen eventually. Of course she wouldn’t be able to keep the truth from him indefinitely… it would have to come out _some_ time _._ But she just… couldn’t handle it being the immediate moment. Not with Christmas right around the corner, and all her deadlines looming in front of her.

Right now, she needed a shower, and to get to work. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and she still had too much work to do before January second.

She heard Adrien’s door open as she passed through the street door and ascended the steps to their floor. She frowned, guilt scratching at her. Why did she have to run into Adrien just hours after sleeping with Chat? Now Adrien was going to know she had spent the night somewhere else… But then again, she didn’t really have to explain herself. It wasn’t as if she and Adrien were in a relationship with each other. They were friends. She could be honest with him and not feel like she was… betraying him.

Reigning in her bearings, she, as quickly as someone who was five months pregnant with twins could, ascended the stairs. “Hey,” she said, reaching the top, where Adrien stood in his doorway. “Hey,” she said again, moving towards her own door, but Adrien cut her off. “You…” he motioned to her stomach with enthusiasm that greatly exceeded the current circumstances. “Twins? _Twins?”_

 _“_ What?” she gave him a confused look. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re having _twins?”_ he exclaimed. He stared at her wildly. “You’re having twins. _Twins!”_

“I… know, and so do you,” she said slowly, staring at him. “You’re just now realizing this?”

“No, I just…” he trailed off, his energy dissipating. “You’re… you… you’re…”

“Are you alright, Adrien?” she asked. “You seem a little… not yourself.”

“No, it’s just… I wish you could have made it, uh…” he paused, and she could see his mind working fast to come up with an answer. “I wish you could have been clearer about having twins.”

“I… don’t know how I could have been any clearer,” she said with an awkward laugh. “Well,” she said, giving him a wary look as she crossed the hall and reached her door, pulling out the key, “I’ll see you around, I guess.”

She continued to give him odd looks as she walked and closed the door. He watched her a strange look on his face that was a cocktail of awe, joy, and disbelief. _Was he high?_ She thought, as she closed the door. Tikki came out of her scarf, looking at her with an equally confused look.

“Something is up with _him,”_ Tikki said. “I’ve never seen Adrien act so oddly before.”

“Yeah…” Marinette said, a little worriedly.

* * *

 

There was a knock on her door, and since the intercom had not buzzed, it had to be someone with a key. She got up from her seat and walked over to the door, peering through the peephole. Adrien. Marinette opened the door tentatively. He stood there, looking somewhat energetic. “Can I come in?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said, opening the door wider to make room for him.

He stepped in, and she realized he was carrying some kind of green drink. “What’s that?” she asked. He offered it to her.

“I read that it’s healthy for the baby—babies,” he said. “It’s juiced vegetables and fruit.”

“Oh,” she said flatly. “Um… thanks. I actually just ate lunch, so I’ll just put it in the fridge… for later.” She took the glass and walked to the fridge, putting it inside. “Is everything alright with you?” she asked Adrien. “You seem a little… weird today.”

“Weird?” he asked, taking a step towards her, and halting, as if reconsidering whatever action he was going to do. “No, actually, everything is not alright.”

“Oh,” she said. “Do you need to talk about it?”

He looked at her long and hard. “I’m… no, not with you.”

She blinked in surprise. “Did I do something?”

“That depends,” he said, cryptically. “What do you remember about…” he trailed off.

“What do I remember?” she prompted.

“The father of the baby,” he said, motioning to it, “Did you tell him everything?”

“Everything?” Marinette echoed, confused.

“Yeah,” Adrien said. “About, like… you know. The babies.”

“Well,” she said. “No, I guess I didn’t. But… he can’t be involved anyway.”

“What if he could be,” he took a step forward.

“Well, he can’t,” she said, taking a small step backwards to keep a distance between them. He paused, and stood rooted to where he was. He was surprised by her small step backwards, taken aback by it. Then he spoke:

“Marinette,” he said. “Why can’t the father be involved?”

“He wouldn’t… it just wouldn’t be safe,” she said.

“Safe?” he asked, his brow furrowing. Then he nodded slowly. “Yeah, I… suppose that’s true. Marinette…”

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Do you…” he paused again, and continued on. “My father is hosting a Christmas Eve get-together for his associates and friends. He’s had one every year for a few years now, and he.. invited me. We haven’t spoken since I left home…” he trailed off unhappily. Then forced himself to continue. “Would you go with me? To the party? I don’t want to be alone there.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised. “Sure.”

“I… really want to spend the holidays with you,” he said, taking another step towards her, and this time, she didn’t move away.

“You don’t want to spend it with someone else?” she asked.

He frowned, cocking his head as he studied her. “No,” he said. “No, I think… she’s not available this season.”

“Oh,” she said, disappointment filling her. So she was a replacement? A rebound of sorts? Did Adrien break up with his secret girlfriend-person? “Okay,” she said. “I’ll go with you. But… your father already invited me.”

“What?” Adrien stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, your father sent me an invitation,” she walked to the counter and lifted a few books out of the way, holding up a cream colored invitation for him to see. He took it and studied it carefully.

“Why would he invite _you_?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“Thanks,” she said drily. “You know, I do have a life outside of you. Your father must consider me a member of his associates, now that I’m part of PFW and… coming up through the cracks.” She turned and walked back into the living area, where she sat down at her desk and began to draw again.

“So…” Adrien said, walking over and sitting down on the couch behind her. “So… How have you been feeling lately? Have you spoken to the father recently?”

She froze, and, not wanting to reveal that she had slept with Chat the night before, said, “Uh… no… I haven’t. Not _very_ recently.” _As in, not in the last few hours,_ she added silently.

She could feel, oddly enough, disappointment behind her, and turned to give Adrien a confused look. “You are really acting odd,” she said, “is everything okay?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You just seem… like something is bothering you.”

“Oh,” he said, “Well, it’s just… can I…” he paused, and seemed to visibly find his courage. “Do you mind if I… feel you?”

She stared at him.

“I mean,” he continued, turning red in the face when he realized how she had interpreted his words. “Your stomach. Can I feel your _stomach?_ Are the twins moving at all?”

“Kind of,” she said. “They were before you arrived.”

She stood from her chair and walked over to him, sitting down. “You can talk to them, if you’d like,” she said. “They can hear you. Or at least, they _should_ be able to hear you now. I am about twenty-two or so weeks along.”

“Seriously?” he looked at her as if she had sprouted two heads, “They can hear you? Your voice and music and the like?”

She nodded. “I sing to them all the time,” she said. “If you talk to them enough, they might even recognize your voice when they… come _out_.”

He continued to stare at her. “Can I come over every day and talk to them?” he asked her in a rush.

She gave out a nervous titter of laughter. “Um,” she said, “Okay?” she didn’t know what had come over him. Suddenly he was much more heavily invested in the twins than he was before, and that’s saying something. Now there was a nervousness about him. A protectiveness.

His hands touched her stomach, and she shivered slightly at the feel of his hands through her shirt. There was something oddly… pleasing, she felt, about the way his hands explored, trying to feel for any indication of life within. She remembered last night, with Chat, and the way he—

She stood up abruptly, and Adrien’s hands fell away. He looked up at her in shock. “What is it?” he asked.

“You, uh, well, anyway,” she said. “I have a lot of work to do, so I should probably be getting back to it. And aren’t you job hunting?”

“Yeah,” he said, rising from his seat. “I just want to spend time with you.”

“Adrien,” she said, as if speaking to someone who _just didn’t get it._ “Adrien, you know that it can’t work out between us. You’re in love with someone else, and I can’t expect you to take responsibility for children who are not yours. And… your father and I both agree that you shouldn’t feel pressure to be involved with the twins just because you’re my friend.”

He watched her, a look of frustration on his face. He opened his mouth, and then closed it. He opened his mouth again, and closed it with a painful sounding _snap._ “I get it,” he said, a little forced. “I’ll make sure I don’t make you uncomfortable again. See you tomorrow night.”

She nodded, and he left.

* * *

 

Adrien closed his apartment door, and leaned against it, his breath hitching slightly as he tried to calm his nerves. He seemed to have trouble breathing, his limbs felt like the blood pulsing through them were burning him, and he felt both the need to crawl into bed and run a few miles. Why was it just hitting him what it meant to _know_ the truth but never be able to _reveal_ it?

And why didn’t he have the guts to just reveal the truth to Marinette? Why did he have… to be such a coward?

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration growing inside him like a tidal wave, and he let out a groan.

He felt as if he could boil over. Frustration at Marinette for not waking up in time to see _him._ If she had just _seen him,_ he wouldn’t be in this dilemma. He wouldn’t have to struggle with the morality of whether or not she would ever forgive him for looking when he had sworn to her that he wouldn’t.

On the bright side, he supposed while making some coffee, this made sense in a way. Why Marinette never revealed anything about the father. Realizing he had thought of _himself_ as some asshole who was abandoning his children and the woman he loved… he gritted his teeth, glaring at the coffee mug in his hand as he sat down at his table.

It was entirely a hopeless affair. He knew who Ladybug was. She was Marinette. Marinette’s babies, _(Twins,_ he reminded himself, he was not going to forgive her anytime soon for lying to him about how many children they were going to have,) were _his._ He had sent the last five months around the woman of his dreams, no real surprise there, who happened to be the _other_ woman of his dreams, “both” of whom happened to be pregnant with his children—he groaned again, running his hand through his hair again, before grabbing at it and tugging a bit to bring himself back to the present.

If only, he thought, watching as Plagg ate some camembert, he wasn’t such a coward. If only he wasn’t feeling slightly spiteful, and just a tad petty. If only he could tell Marinette the _truth._

Perhaps he would—eventually. But he wasn’t sure she was ready. She didn’t even seem ready to commit herself to be with himself _or_ Chat. How would she react when she found out they were the same person? What if she chose not to be with him as Chat _or_ himself?

He sighed loudly and dejectedly.

“What is it now?” Plagg asked, after he had finished his camembert. “Don’t tell me you’re depressed.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, taking a sip of coffee.

“You just look like you’ve seen a ghost, and you want to strangle it to death.”

“Well,” Adrien said. “I just… you heard what just happened. She practically threw me out of there.”

“Well, it _is_ her apartment—”

“I know,” Adrien said, a little calmer, “I mean… she doesn’t want me involved. Not as Adrien, now, I guess that I can understand. She probably thinks I’m her weird friend with boundary issues. But she doesn’t want me as Chat to be involved either. It’s like… I can’t…” he let out a noise of dissent and rubbed his forehead. “It’s like I can’t win… in any way.”

“Well, that is a predicament,” Plagg yawned.

“You’re telling me,” Adrien muttered. “It’s more than a predicament, Plagg. It’s a… a _cat_ astrophe.”

He gazed at the swirling creamy liquid, before sighing again.

Ironic, wasn’t it. Just how _bad_ his luck was.

* * *

 

“You can do this,” Adrien muttered. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I know,” she answered.

“I was talking to myself,” he replied coolly, as they stood by the gate. He gave her a tight, nervous smile, and rang the bell. She wondered why he bothered—it wasn’t like this hadn’t been his home for almost his entire life. The gate opened and they stepped into the courtyard, and ascended the steps into his father’s mansion.

Inside was magnificent, decorated to the max, and when he led her to the reception room, she felt her breath leave her. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered to him.

“It’s alright,” he replied tensely, looking around like an animal of prey. A few people around them looked their way and smiled, and one older couple made their way over to them. “Good evening, so glad you were able to make it,” the man said, shaking Adrien’s hand, and smiling at Adrien. “Who is your guest, Adrien?”

“This is Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Adrien said, and Marinette watched as the couple glanced at her mid-section. And no wonder. Her elegant, hand sewn dress could not hide the fact that she looked like she was at the end of a pregnancy with one child. Sure, she was only five months along, but she was pregnant with _twins._ “Marinette,” Adrien continued, “This is Mr. And Mrs. Dubois.”

“A pleasure to meet both of you,” Marinette said, smiling and adjusting her hand in the crook of Adrien’s elbow.

“ _Well,”_ the woman said, beaming at them. “When are you due, Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

“April Twentieth,” Marinette said, smiling back. The couple in front of them frowned in surprise, and Marinette gave a small, if awkward laugh, and rested a hand on her stomach. “It’s twins,” she explained.

The couple then laughed, and the man turned to Adrien. “You must be very excited, Adrien. Your father never mentioned that that you two were expecting.”

Marinette froze, and she was aware of Adrien glancing at her quickly, and away just as quickly. “It’s,” she said, fighting to find the words in a timely manner before the awkward situation this was quickly turning into did not escalate further. “Adrien and I are not together,” she finally said.

“Oh,” the woman frowned, and glanced at both Adrien and she with sense of morbid curiosity.

And Marinette suddenly realized what they looked like, walking in, hand in arm, she obviously very pregnant. “We’re just friends,” she said, and she let Adrien wince, moving slightly so that her hand fell away from his arm naturally. “He’s not the the father…”

“Oh,” Mr. Dubois said, and the awkward situation was unfortunately prolonged. “Well, that’s…”

A silence fell, until Mrs. Dubois spotted someone that she recognized, and she and her husband made an eager and well appreciated escape.

Marinette and Adrien stood to the spot, not quite sure how to face each other after the ordeal of that unpleasant introduction. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m guessing we’re going to be mistaken as a couple quite a bit this evening…”

“I shouldn’t have invited you to be my date,” Adrien said, pointedly not looking at her.

“No, it’s fine,” she said. She reached out and grasped his arm, and he looked down at her in surprise. “We’ll just correct people. There’s no reason two friends shouldn’t be able to attend a party and not be constantly mistaken as a couple. We’ll just correct people, and make sure they know that we’re not together and you’re not the father, and the we’re just friends.”

He stared at her with an odd expression on his face, and she wondered for a moment if she had offended him in some way. “Are you alright?” she asked.

“I’m… fine,” he said a little forcibly, and she smiled, though she had the distinct impression that he was not.

“Good,” she said, “Let’s get mingling, I’ll need you to introduce me to—” she stopped talking when she noticed an imposing figure walking towards them. Gabriel Agreste strode towards them with a grace and elegance, and yet equally looking like a man tracking his prey.

“Oh God,” Adrien muttered, “I thought I’d have at least a few hours before he noticed I was here…”

“Be nice,” she murmured. She smiled as Mr. Agreste stopped before them. “Merry Christmas,” she said, smiling at him. “Thank you so much for your invitation, Mr. Agreste, I am truly honored.”

“Of course, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Mr. Agreste held out his hand for her, and she gingerly let go of Adrien’s arm and placed her hand in his father’s, and the older man gave her hand a comforting squeeze. She saw his eyes glance down. “How are you feeling? Is everything alright with the pregnancy?”

“Of course,” she said, “I have checkups almost every week now—I need more because it’s twins,” she explained.

“Good,” he said. He looked down at her, and then asked, “May I?” while motioning towards her stomach.

“ _Father,”_ Adrien hissed, holding out a hand as if to protect Marinette. “Don’t you think—”

“It’s alright,” Marinette said, glaring at Adrien. “The twins are actually kicking a bit, Mr. Agreste, if you’d like to feel.”

Adrien glowered discontentedly as Mr. Agreste stepped forward and placed two hands on her stomach, where she indicated him to. The twins were no longer kicking, and then… two small kicks. And something happened that shocked her to her bones.

Mr. Agreste _smiled._

Adrien and Marinette stared, when Mr. Agreste stepped away, placing his hands behind his back, his smile gone as if it were never there. “Thank you again, for coming Miss Dupain-Cheng,” he said. He gave Adrien a short nod of acknowledgement, and walked away to greet other guests.

“You see that?” Adrien muttered in her ear. “Doesn’t even notice I’m here. Or just ignoring me. Why is he so interested in the twins…” Adrien trailed off, his eyes widening and his face paling slightly. “I’ll be right back,” he said, walking off towards his father.

She watched him go, curious as to what had suddenly overtaken him, and wondering what had come over him the last few days.

* * *

 

Adrien reached his father and clasped him by the arm. “We need to talk,” he said, and his father turned to look at him placidly.

“You wish to talk?” his father asked, raising an eyebrow. “Then talk.”

Adrien gritted his teeth painfully. _“Privately…”_ he hissed. “Come on, it’ll only take a moment.”

His father nodded, excused himself from the confused guest he had been speaking to, and followed Adrien out of the room. “What is so urgent—”

“What’s with your sudden interest in—in—Marinette’s twins?” Adrien asked, rounding on his father once the door was closed.

His father gazed at him. “Why should I not be interested in the condition of a friend of my son?”

Adrien narrowed his eyes. “It’s not that, though, is it? You know something, don’t you?”

His father’s expression turned steely. “The question is,” he said. “Do _you_ know something?”

Adrien swallowed, and said, hesitantly, “That depends.”

“Yes, I agree,” his father said, walking to the dark window, gazing out at the lights of the city beyond.

Adrien glared at his father’s back, and knew hat his father could see him in the reflection of the mirror. How could he decipher if his father knew Adrien was the father of the twins, without revealing that _he_ knew? His father’s next works chilled him. “I will ask you one more time, and… I will take your answer as the truth. _Are_ you the father of Marinette’s twins?”

Adrien stared at his father through the reflection of the mirror. They’re eyes met, his father’s calculating, Adrien’s stricken, and Adrien, hating himself, hating everything, slowly, forcibly, shook his head. “I’m…” he said. “I’m not, Father. I wish I were, but I’m…” he had to stop speaking, afraid that his voice was break if he continued on.

“I see,” his father said. “Very well, I believe you.” He turned to face Adrien. Adrien could see something akin to disappointment. Disappointment that he wasn’t going to be a grandfather? Or disappointment in Adrien for lying? He couldn’t tell. He didn’t know how much his father knew. How _could_ his father know?

As he followed his father back to the main room, keeping a safe distance so as to keep to his own thoughts, Adrien pondered how he was going to survive the night, let alone the rest of his life, knowing that he was going to have to deny knowing that his children were truly his. Or that Marinette was really Ladybug. That, he knew, would be easier. For her own protection, and for the protection of the twins.

But denying being the father of the twins?

He wasn’t sure he would be able to do that.

He arrived at Marinette’s side just when an old woman approached her, and immediately wished he hadn’t. The woman was cooing over Marinette’s belly, and congratulating Adrien and Marinette, asking when the wedding was going to be, and if they had thought of any names yet. Marinette tried desperately to inform the woman that, _Adrien was not the father._ They were _not a couple._ They were _just friends._

This continued throughout the night, to the point where Adrien considered getting up on a chair and announcing it all loudly so that no one else would make the ‘mistake’ of believe that he was the father.

Again, the uncomfortably unbearable feeling of his heart leaping out of his throat, his mind a whirl, and the inability to focus on his surroundings, consumed him. He needed to get out of here—he needed to be somewhere quiet and still and empty. He made a quick escape, managing to tell Marinette he was going to the restroom, and ascended the stairs, heading to his old bedroom.

There, he paced the floor, head in his hands, gripping at his hair as he tried to calm himself.

“Whoa there,” Plagg said. “I think you need to calm down a bit—you’re acting a bit like you’re gonna—”

“I can’t take it anymore, Plagg,” Adrien said, sitting down heavily on the bed, one of the only things left in the room. “I can’t… I have to tell her.”

Plagg landed on the bed beside him. “Yeah… that makes sense,” he said. “But…”

“But what?” Adrien demanded. “Why is it so damn important that we don’t know who each other are?”

Plagg considered this for a moment, before saying, “Not so great things happen, when Miraculous Holders fall in love, I guess. Got some camembert?”

“What does that mean?” Adrien asked, staring at the little kwami.

“ _Don’t_ tell me you’ve forgotten what camembert is,” Plagg said, giving him a incredulous look.

“Not _that,”_ Adrien said, irritation flaring in him, “I mean—”

The door opened, and Plagg quickly hid under the bed. Marinette was in the doorway, looking around, and then back at him. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You’ve been up here a long time.”

“I’m fine,” Adrien said.

“No, you’re not,” she said. She walked forward, sitting down next to him. “Adrien… what’s bothering you? You’ve been acting different for a while, especially these past few days, and… I don’t know… I’m really worried about you.”

He shook his head. “I’m… I’m… fine,” he said, finally. “I’d actually like to go home now.”

“Alright,” she said softly, taking his arm and helping him to his feet, though he was fairly sure he’d be able to do it himself. He followed her downstairs, Plagg quickly hiding in his coat jacket, and they headed out onto the street, and hails a cab.

The ride home was a tensely quiet one. It wasn’t until they arrived home, ascending the steps to the second floor and she walked to her door and began to unlock it. He goes with her, standing behind her, and she turns to give him an curious look. “What is it?” she asked.

“Can I come in?” he asked. “For a bit?”

“Sure,” she said. She opened her door and led the way, and closed it after both of them had entered. “Do you need to talk?”

“I guess,” he said. He stood awkwardly, before saying, “Marinette… who is the father of the twins?”

“What?” there was laughter in her voice. Incredulous laughter. And for a moment, his heart sang at the prospect that perhaps, just maybe, she knew the truth as well. But then she sobered, and said, “You really want to know?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

“I… I can’t tell you that, Adrien,” she said, looking a little awkward. “I like… I like that aspect of my life and this life to be separate. Besides, you wouldn’t believe me.”

He froze, and turned to look at her. “Why?” he asked, his voice somewhat hollow. “I mean, why have them be separate?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. “I guess I just… am not ready for what it might mean to… converge them.” She looked out the window, and said, “You know, I don’t know anything about him. Not really. I mean, he’s one of my best friends, but when it really comes down to it, I don’t know anything about him.”

“You could try to get to know him,” Adrien offered hopefully.

She shrugged softly, a heartbroken look on her face. “It wouldn’t work out for him to be involved,” she said. “I don’t even know if he’d make a good father.”

He gazed at her, and then said, keeping his voice calm so it did not threaten to break again. “If your children need a father, I…I— _I’m_ available.”

She stared. Her eyes wide, and her mouth slightly open in a small ‘oh’. “Adrien…” she said. “That’s not… you can’t… I can’t let you do that.”

“Why not?” he asked, taking a step towards her, and taking her hand. “You know _me_ , you know I’d make a great…”

“Because it’s not your responsibility,” she said, removing her hand from his. “I can’t expect you to step up and take on the role you never asked for.”

“But… I _am_ asking,” he said. “I _am_ asking for it, Marinette.”

“ _Why?”_ she asked, staring at him like he had gone mad.

“Because…” he trailed off, not sure how to answer. “Because I want to be involved. I want to… I want to help you. I want to be there for you and your children.”

She continued to watch him, and he wondered if she might have caught the meaning in his words. If she might have realized how familiar they sounded. But if she did, she made no indication of it. “It would be inappropriate,” she said, finally. “You’re not the father, Adrien. And… I won’t let you take the role of one when you have no claim to be one, at least of _my_ children.”

Her face fell at what his own must look like. His vision blurred slightly, and he quickly looked away, realizing that he didn’t want to cry in front of her. “Adrien,” she said, her voice shocked and shaken. “I’m sorry, I—I didn’t realize you’d…”

“Forget it,” he said, his voice void of any emotion. “I’m… I guess I won’t be the father. But I’ll at least be their favorite uncle. You won’t deny me of _that,_ will you?” he looked at her, his vision having cleared.

“Of course not,” she said, softly. “Adrien, I didn’t realize that you’d be so… I don’t know… _upset._ I just… don’t want to put pressure on you that you don’t deserve.”

He took in a ragged breath. “I want to be there for you,” he finally said. “All three of you. If… if you’ll let me. I don’t care that I’m not—” his voice broke off here, and he continued on, a little shakily, but gaining strength as he spoke, “—the father. I’m sure that, whoever he really is, he’s probably not going to get the chance to be involved if he hasn’t been by now. So… if you want the support, and partnership, and all that. I’m here. And I’m going to do it,” he added, looking her fiercely in the eyes. “I’m going to be there for you and the twins, whether they call me ‘dad’ or ‘uncle’, it doesn’t matter. You’re my—friend, and… I’m going to be there for you.”

She took in a small breath, and nodded. “Thank you,” she murmured, keeping eye contact with him.

He tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “Goodnight,” he said. “I should get to bed.”

“Right,” she said. She glanced at the clock behind him, and said, “Merry Christmas, Adrien.”

He resisted the urge to walk up to her, gather her into his arms, and kiss her senseless. Maybe that would knock some _sense_ into her. But instead, he smiled back at her and said, “Merry Christmas.”

And walked out the door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HHH
> 
> To be continued…
> 
> So… now Adrien knows the truth, but he can’t really do much about it :( (or as I like to call it: how much unnecessary drama and dramatic irony can I stuff into one fic??? Turns out: A LOT (lmao)
> 
> Also sorry this chapter was a touch angsty. Next chapter has more fluff in it :D
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> (Also so sorry this chapter is so late! Thank you all for your patience!)  
> (Also: Also: Sorry about any spelling/grammar/continuity mistakes there might be in this chapter!)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So sorry it’s taken so long to get this chapter up!

Marinette opened her eyes and sat up, groaning slightly as she did so. She gave out a puff of annoyance, not wanting to get _up,_ but not nearly comfortable enough to sleep in some more. Being pregnant sucked, as far as lying down and getting comfortable and a good night’s sleep was concerned. Almost _impossible_ , at five months. _With twins._

But she also had to get ready, because her parent’s would never forgive her if she was late to Christmas Breakfast and presents. After all, if she couldn’t sleep there because she needed to work late, then the least she could do was arrive early enough that the difference wasn’t _that_ bad.

Yawning, she slipped out of bed, walking stiffly out of her bedroom and into the kitchen. She started making her daily tea, and glanced over at the large wrapped present on the floor by the counter, realizing that she would have to give it to Adrien. The nice thing about living so close to him (literally across the hall,) was that she was bound to run into him sometime today. Unless he was spending time away from his apartment. She assumed he would spend at least some of the day with his mystery woman. Unless they had broken up. But she hoped she would get the chance to see him, to give him his gift.

She rubbed her neck. It and her back were duly sore, due in part to the fact that the only position remotely comfortable for her organs and stomach was not nearly so comfortable for the rest of her body.

She wondered if she should wear the necklace that Chat gave her—but no, that was most likely dangerous. What if Adrien saw it? Adrien, who knew Chat. What if Chat stopped by and saw her wearing it? _It was a pity,_ she thought, sighing. She wanted to wear it all the time, but could only wear it when she was alone in her apartment.

She heard a knock on the door as she was making her tea and chatting with Tikki, who quickly flew into her sweater. She knew instinctively who it was. Eagerly, she walked over and opened the door, grinning at Adrien standing across the threshold from her.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, holding something large under his arm. He was smiling at her, and for a moment, she thought their argument from the night before had been erased from his memory.

“You already wished me a Merry Christmas,” she teased, deciding to roll with it, but stepped aside for him to enter.

“Well,” he said. “Now it’s _officially_ Christmas.” He placed the large… whatever it was, on the counter, and said, “Open it. I want to see if you like it.”

“Well,” she said, “I’m sure I will.” She carefully unwrapped it, and found it was some kind of body pillow.

“I read in a magazine that these are exceptionally useful to help with sleep,” Adrien said. “This model scored a ten out of ten stars. And here,” he dug in his pocket for something, and took it out, handing it to her.

She accepted it, frowning at it in confusion.

“Open it,’ he said, grinning at her.

She gave him another curious look, and opened the box. She gasped, and saw, to her surprise, that it was a bracelet. Two, in fact. Both with little green gems inlaid in the silver wrought like entwined tree limbs.

“Because of the twins,” he explained. “Anyway, I thought you would like it—”

“Adrien, I can’t accept this,” she said, looking up at him, holding the box out to him. “It’s too much.”

He frowned, and shook his head, smiling softly, as if something was funny to him, and pushed her hand back towards herself. “It’s yours.”

“But you don’t even have a job, how did you afford this?” she asked.

“My—mother,” Adrien said slowly, his lips twitching slightly in what seemed like both annoyance and amusement. “These were hers.”

“Then even more so,” Marinette said, taking a step closer to him and placing the box in his hands. “If these were your mother’s, I—I cannot accept them.”

“But they’re yours,” Adrien said. “I’m giving them to you.”

“You should give them to someone you care about—someone you love, or something,” Marinette spluttered.

Adrien frowned, his face falling slightly. There was a layer of hurt in his eyes, and she quickly tried to amend what she said. “I mean, you should… you know, give it to someone who can love you back.”

“And you don’t anymore?” he asked hollowly.

“You know what I mean.”

He nodded. “But still, I want you to keep them. If not for me, or you, then for the twins.”

She nodded slowly, opening the box to look longingly at them. “Thank you,” she said softly. “They really are beautiful. And… I do…” she paused, unsure if she should say it. Would it only give him unfair hope to tell him that she loved him too, still? Would that be unkind? Would be it terrible of her to rush into his arms and kiss him until all their troubles went away?

But that was only a bandaid, not a healing of a wound.

And there was still Chat. She couldn’t forget him—she couldn’t abandon him.

Finally, she stepped towards him and hugged him tightly. His arms slowly wrapped around her, his face burrowing into her neck. His arms lingered around her, unwilling to let go. She had to move away from him in order to end the hug. She walked around the counter and grabbed his present, hoisting it over to him. “This is what I got you,” she said, and he quickly came to her aide.

“It’s kind of heavy,” he said.

“Yes,” she nodded, “Open it! It’s kind of lame… but it’s for your apartment.”

He gave her a smile that told her he was prepared to love it no matter what it was, and opened it. Underneath was what she had spotted in the antique shop window. An intricate wooden, antique picture frame, or more accurately, many picture frames arranged together in an ornate way, and in each frame was a picture taken over the years, featuring Adrien and his many friends.

“Wow…” Adrien said, staring at it. “This is… incredible. It’s perfect.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make anything,” Marinette said, a little bashfully. “I just… I’m so swamped with work and… ugh. I haven’t been sleeping well, but too exhausted to pull all nighters…”

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked, seemingly forgetting his gift in favor of her.

“I’m fine,” she said, waving him off with a hand. “I’m just… well, nothing to worry you about.” She walked back into the kitchen as the kettle whistled, and prepared her tea.

She was aware of Adrien standing very still behind her. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

“I just wish—” he began. “That… you would let me in a little. With the pregnancy and baby stuff.”

She pointedly ignored his underlying implications, instead saying, “Are you alone for Christmas this year? I’m sure my parents would be thrilled to have you over.”

He shook his head. “I’m going over to Nino’s and his parents’,” he said. He fumbled with his hands a little, and said, “Are you really sleeping poorly?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, and nodded towards the body pillow. “ _That_ will help. It’s just… my back is _so_ sore and… being pregnant with twins is the _worst.”_

“Do you need a back massage?” he asked, a little hopefully. A little _too_ hopefully _._

_“_ Oh,” she said, eyeing him a little warily and suspiciously. “Um, okay.”

She turned around as he began to massage her back, and closed her eyes, enjoying their close proximity and the feel of his hands against her. There was something oddly familiar about his hands.

_Duh,_ she thought, mentally hitting herself over her head. _He’s Adrien. You’ve known him since he was fifteen. Chances are you’ve felt his hands before now. In fact, you know you have._ “You’re really good at that,” she said, feeling her body relaxing by the second. “Where did you learn to do this?”

“Um… a book,” he said.

“A book?” Marinette smirked. “A book on how to massage pregnant women?”

“No,” Adrien said slowly. “A book on… parenting.”

She stiffened visibly, and his hands immediately fell away from her back. She turned and gave him a wide-eyed, disbelieving look. “Adrien,” she said. “I thought we talked about this—”

“I read it _before_ last night,” he said, putting his hands up in defense. “I couldn’t help myself, I…” he looked tormented, like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t make himself say it, and hated himself for it.

“Adrien, look” she put her tea down on the counter and turned to face him fully. “I know that you… that you…” she swallowed, to give herself time to gather her thoughts. And to fight the guilt building up inside her. And the regret. “I know that you want to be involved in that way, but I don’t think it’s fair to you to…”

“But I don’t care,” he said softly. “I just want to… _be_ with you.”

She squinted at him, her mouth open slightly, unable to comprehend him. “What about the… _the other_ person?” she asked. At his blank look, she continued, slowly, “ _You know?_ The woman you’ve been in love with since you were fifteen?”

He opened his mouth to speak, and closed it. He looked at her blankly for a bit, and then said. “I’ve… chosen you, I guess.”

She continued to squint at him. “And…” she said slowly, “You mean that to be… _romantic_?” At his confused look, she continued, “I mean… don’t you think that’s a little, like, okay, I don’t see that as the best message you’re sending.”

“What… do you mean?” he asked.

“All of a sudden, you’re over her?” Marinette asked, her voice rising slightly. “And you’re onto me? Just like that? What’ll keep you from moving on from _me_ to the next person so… abruptly? I can’t put my kids through that.”

He stared at her, his turn to be open mouthed.

His gaze slowly, and agonizingly, shifted from disbelief—to anger.

It would have been better if he had yelled, or at least said something, of his frustrations at her words, she thought later, in the taxi to her parent’s house. But instead, she could see his hurt boil under the surface, and he finally turned and walked from her apartment.

In her defense, she reasoned, she had barely slept, was in pain, and stressed beyond belief because January first was just around the corner, and she wasn’t _nearly_ ready for her big deadline. But… why had she said all that to him? She supposed, in a way, she was just too surprised he would just… jump onto her like that. Jump the ship with whoever that other woman was, seemingly without a second thought. That wasn’t like the Adrien she knew. As if his mystery girlfriend no longer mattered.

It made her think that perhaps even _Chat_ would give up on Ladybug as quickly and with no regret.

And both situations made her feel guilt so deep she found it difficult to breathe at times. Guilty that she expected either of them to act perfectly.

God knows she hasn’t.

_She_ was the one who pushed both of them away. She couldn’t have both, so she chose neither. She thought Adrien felt the same. And she really _couldn’t_ and _shouldn’t_ let Adrien father her children, because that was unfair to Chat. She could never _replace_ Chat. Not with Adrien. But the reverse was true as well.

She groaned loudly.

“You okay back there, Miss?” the taxi driver asked.

“I’m fine,” she said, looking out the window. It was starting to snow. She hated how easily she fought with Adrien. What had gotten into them the last few days? She had worse fights with him since that night with Chat than she had ever had with him the last few years. She could always count on Adrien being someone she got on so well with, even when they had disagreements. Now, it seemed like everything she did or said upset him, or infuriated him. She didn’t know what was wrong with him, or wrong with _her_ for upsetting him, but somehow she was the root of it.

She would have to ask him. Talk to him. Figure it out.

She couldn’t stay like this forever. Or even a day longer.

Not with him.

* * *

 

Perhaps it was just her imagination, but she could have _sworn_ she heard her knocks echo inside. As if there was nothing within. “Adrien?” she called. “Are you in there?”

There was no answer. Perhaps he was staying over at Nino’s. That would… make sense. Disappointed, she turned away, and as she crossed the hall and reached her own door, she heard Adrien’s door open, and turned again, looking at him.

He looked terrible. There were bags under his eyes. His hair was a mess. His clothes rumbled, and the ones he had worn yesterday.

“What happened to you?” she asked before she could stop herself.

He gave her a pointed look.

“I suppose…” she said slowly. “This is because of our argument yesterday?”

He sighed, and shook his head. “No,” he said. “It’s… well…” he seemed to struggle to find the words.

“Look,” she said. “I’m sorry about what I said. I just don’t want you to—”

“Be involved?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s not that,” she said. “You just seem to be under the impression you can just waltz into my life and start a relationship with me and father my children without even… _considering_ how inappropriate that is. You’re not my boyfriend, these aren’t your children, and you have no right to demand otherwise. It isn’t fair to me, and it isn’t fair to their actual father.”

Adrien stared at her.

And did something she did not expect.

He started laughing.

Though there was no humor in it, he laughed so hard that she was worried something had unscrewed inside his head. Finally, he turned and walked back into his apartment. Surprised into action, she quickly followed him before he closed the door. Thankfully, he didn’t try to stop her. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “It’s just… the way you said all that”

“Oh, I suppose me demanding you respect my boundaries is _funny_?”

“It’s…” he sobered quickly. “No, of course it’s important. And I’m sorry I laughed. I shouldn’t have. I suppose I _have_ been inappropriate lately. But you have too.”

She looked at him quickly in surprise, “What?”

“You've been... kind of a turd lately," he answered.

Her mouth dropped open, and she couldn't help the gasp of a laugh that escaped her. "What did you call me?" she asked, still laughing slightly.

"You heard me," he said, his lips twitching. 

"Okay, all jokes aside," she said, sobering slightly, "Why exactly have  _I_ been a turd?"

"You know why," he said, also becoming more serious. "You're right, I need to respect your boundaries. But you've got a decision to make."

She gave him a confused look. He shrugged. "About the father, or me," he said. "It's funny, cause... you know." he looked at her with a deeply serious expression, gazing at her shrewdly, "If you only knew, Marinette."

"Knew what?" she asked, frowning.

He shrugged again. He held out his hand, and she stared at it. And for a moment, she didn’t know whether to shake it or not, or what they were shaking  _on._ "Truce?" he asked. "I'll stop trying to be a surrogate father, and... you've got to come up with a decision."

"You haven't explained what this decision is," she said.

"Me, or the father," he said simply, "Either one of us. Or neither of us. But I want it to be your decision. And... if you choose one of us, I think you'll be..." he stopped himself, and again, he looked like he was amused about something. "Either way, I want you to choose and learn on your own terms," he said. "That way it's... you know. Coming to terms with it when you're ready."

"I can shake to that," she said, taking his hand and shaking it gently. "Thank you, Adrien, for understanding."

He smiled, the first genuine one she had seen in a while. “Great,” he said. “Well, I… was wondering if I could… talk to the twins?”

“Oh?” she asked. “Okay. _That’s_ not too weird.”

“Come _on_ , Nino was telling me that he talked to the babies all the time,” Adrien teased as they walked to the couch. “I _am_ their favorite uncle, after all.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, sitting down heavily.

“I _will_ be,” he said firmly. He put a hand gingerly on her stomach and bent over, speaking softly to it.

She smiled gently as she watched him eagerly tell the babies about all the fun things they were going to do. And she considered… perhaps.

Just perhaps.

* * *

 

She heard a knock, as if on glass. Startled, she spun in her seat, her body automatically entering a defensive position, and preparing for an offensive move. But then she remembered that she was over five months pregnant.

She stood up, and walked over to the balcony doors, and drew away the curtain, and saw, to her upmost surprise, that it was none other than Chat.

“What are you doing here?” she asked dumbly.

He cocked his head to one side, looking startlingly like a real cat, and cup a hand to one of the cat ears perched on the top of his head. She bit back a grin and opened the door, letting him in. “I didn’t expect this,” she said. “On New Years Eve, too…”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect it myself,” Chat answered. “Except, you know, duty calls—and Vixen, QB and I have our work cut out for us without Ladybug.”

Marinette hoped her face didn’t fall as badly as she felt it did. “Well, I’m sure one she has her baby,” Marinette said, as nonchalantly as she could, “She’ll be back on task as always.”

“Right,” Chat said, eyeing her strangely. “You know her, don’t you?”

“Yes…” Marinette said slowly. “But you knew that already.”

“Strange, don’t you think? That you’re both pregnant at the same time?” Chat asked.

She turned to give him a curious look. “What makes you say that?”

He shrugged.“How have you been?” he asked, ignoring her question.

“That’s right, you haven’t visited me that often,” Marinette mused, while gathering up some teacups and putting the kettle on. “How have you been, I’d like to know? How is fatherhood treating you?”

When she received no answer, she turned to look at him fully, and saw that he was looking at her with an almost emotional look.

“Is Ladybug still shutting you out?” she asked softly.

The change was instantaneous. Suddenly, he looked furious, as if something about the way she said those words put him over the edge, but it passed just as quickly, and he was left looking bereft and tired. He sat down on the couch, and she came forward to sit next to him. “What is it?” she asked.

“Don’t you already know?” he asked. “I mean… can’t you… tell?”

She blinked at him. “I’m not sure what you mean?” she asked.

“I mean,” he said, “Can’t you figure it out too?”

She blinked again. “I don’t follow…” she said slowly.

He sighed. “I guess it’s too much to ask for me to have my cake and eat it too,” he said forlornly.

Marinette bristled. _What did he mean by that? Was he thinking of… two timing Ladybug?_ Marinette felt a wave of hurt wash over her. And guilt, remaining during the undertow. Why wouldn’t he want to move on? If she so adamantly pushed him away? She gave out exhale of breath, and sank onto her sofa. “I’m…” she said slowly, but stayed herself at the last moment from apologizing. That might make Chat suspicious, and he might eventually piece together that she and Ladybug are one and the same.

“I’m sorry, Chat,” she said, finally, and he looked at her sharply, green eyes narrowing. Hurriedly, not having intended to actually say the words, she said, “I’m sure it’s difficult, being a superhero and expecting father. And with Ladybug… well, with your secret identities… I’m sure it is difficult.”

His shoulders sagged slightly, and he looked disappointed. But why would he be disappointed with _her._ _Marinette?_

He came over and sat down heavily beside her. “Right,” he said. “Yeah, no, it is hard.”

She was aware of him looking at her again, and turned her head to peer at him. “Is there something else that is bothering you?” she asked.

He glanced down at her stomach, and back at her face. His lips twitched, as if he was about to say something. She waited, with baited breath, for him to speak, but he didn’t. Instead, he reached out with a trembling hand and took one of hers in it. He held it, looking at it with a somewhat blank expression, but when he looked into her eyes, there was a raw plead in his own.

“Marinette…” he whispered. “I… I love you.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued…
> 
> Chapter 12 will have another surprise encounter between Marinette and Chat… an encounter that might… _reveal_ something? You’ll have to wait/read on to find out ;)
> 
> Also I apologize for the lack of Tikki and Plagg in this chapter. They're featured more heavily in later chapters :) This chapter was mainly focusing on Adrien and Marinette (and Chat) and the complications of being in a *cough* love square.
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading! You'll see next chapter Marinette's reaction to Chat's confession, and perhaps a little into Chat/Adrien's mind and why he sprung that on her :)
> 
> (Also I apologize for any out of character-ness or just the general unbelievable-ness and cliche-ness and all around ridiculousness of this story except not really cause I warned y'all ;D Anyway, thanks for sticking around so long, it means a lot and I appreciate all of you <3)


	12. Chapter 12

 

 

“You’re… _what?”_ she exclaimed, standing up quickly. Being heavily pregnant with twins and the severity of the situation caused her to sway from the motion. “You’re in _love with me?”_

_“_ Don’t you know that?” he asked, his voice near to a tremble, standing just as quickly. Except _he_ wasn’t pregnant with twins, and managed to get up as gracefully as ever. He reached for her, to offer her a steadying hand, but she thrust his hands away.

“What about _Ladybug?”_ she demanded.

He stared at her, and a look of deep disappointment flickered across his face, as if he had just learned something that he was hoping had been untrue. “I see…” he said. “That’s… right. I’m sorry—I… I misspoke.”

Her brows furrowed as she continued to stare at him. “How can you… Chat, I…” she broke off to steady her breathing. “Chat, how could you make that kind of mistake?”

He shrugged, looking both tormented and as if he didn’t care at all, or was trying not to. “I’m sorry, Marinette,” he said. “That was inappropriate. I… I misspoke. I apologize, it won’t happen again.”

Her brows furrowed deeper, as she stared at him. “First that kiss a while back,” she said, “And now this? Chat… Is everything alright?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he said, before pausing, “Actually, I think you would, but…” he shook his head slightly. “I’m not sure you want to know.”

“Chat…” she reached for him, “You can talk to me—you can’t kiss me and I’d rather you not profess your love to me, I just… I can’t handle that right now. But… I want you to know you can talk to me.”

He shook his head again. “I can’t, Marinette,” he said, not looking at her. “I think I need to… be by myself for a while.”

“Chat… I’m not sure that’s—I mean… you look pretty rough,” she said. “I’m worried about you.”

“Since when?” he asked, looking her full in the face now.

She blinked in surprise, and he shrugged gain. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I suppose that wasn’t fair, was it? I shouldn’t… take out my frustrations with her out on you. Anyway, I should go. I’ve got things to do.”

He turned and walked towards the patio doors, and she took a few steps towards him. He put up a hand to stop her. “Don’t follow me,” he said. “I need some time… some time away from you. And from Ladybug, I think.”

“What?” Marinette frowned. “What are you talking about!?”

“I need some time to clear my head. You know,” his mouth twitched into a grim smile, “Figure out which of you I like. That sort of thing.”

He was lying, she could tell. That wasn’t anywhere close to the reason he was leaving. It was something deeper. She had hurt him somehow. But _how?_ By rejecting his love? He was a big boy, he wouldn’t be like this just because she rejected him, that wasn’t the Chat she knew. This had to be something more than tonight.

She watched as he left, and took a shuddering breath.

Why did everything have to be so complicated all the time?

* * *

 

Two months had passed since he last saw Marinette as Chat. He had seen _Ladybug_ since then, making sure she didn’t think he abandoned her. It was difficult, since as Adrien, he saw Marinette every day. Multiple times a day. He was helping her put on her shoes at this rate because she couldn’t bend over far enough for crying out loud. Knowing that she was Ladybug, and her twins were _his children,_ it was a difficult to remember that Marinette, as Ladybug, needed him as Chat as well.

The bags under his eyes hadn’t gone away, nor the restless nights. It was a torment, knowing that Marinette was right across the hall, and he couldn’t do anything about this situation

He supposed that wasn’t true. He could tell her the truth. That he was both Adrien _and_ Chat. But… He didn’t fancy getting rejected a third time. He could only assume that Marinette would come up with another reason not to be with him. There was no reason why _they_ had to be together, he supposed, as he poured the coffee into his mug. It wasn’t like they were fated to be together.

“You’re talking out loud again,” Plagg said, yawning.

“What?” Adrien looked at him tiredly.

“Look, why don’t you just tell Ladybug—I mean, Marinette, who you are and how you feel?” Plagg asked.

“I’ve tried that,” Adrien sighed. “I’ve told her how I feel, as both Chat and me. If she doesn’t want either of us, us being the same person isn’t going to make much of a difference. And I’m not going to force her to be with me. I’m just going to… let things go, you know?”

Plagg gave him a lidded look. “You’re missing out,” he said. “What if Adrien and Chat being the same person is the perfect reason for her to be with you? What if that clears any doubt in her mind?”

Adrien shrugged. “She’s pissed at me, as she probably should be—I was kind of an ass to her for a while.”

“Well, she did lie about the twins,” Plagg mused.

Adrien shrugged again. “Either way,” he said. “I’ve decided to… let things go.” He made a show of his hands, moving them along some invisible current in the air in front of him.

“What does that even mean?” Plagg asked, annoyed.

“You know,” Adrien said. “ _Let things go._ I’m letting go of Marinette. And Ladybug.”

Plagg stared at him. “You’re _what?!”_

“I don't want to repeat myself,” Adrien said, heaving a breath. “Anyway, point is, she’s made her intentions clear, and her lack of a desire to be with me, and I’m going to respect that. So… Even if I tell her the truth, _we’re_ off the table.”

Plagg stared at him. “And if you tell her the truth and she says she wants to be with you?”

Adrien shrugged. “Still off the table.”

“Even to me, that’s a little petty, don’t you think?” Plagg began to say, but Adrien’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. He took it out and looked at it, before he felt as if his heart had stopped.

He didn’t bother knocking, he ran straight in after unlocking from outside, a panicked expression on his face.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his eyes wide with worry. “Your text was… whoah…” he said, looking around in concern.

And rightly so. Papers and folders littered the floor of Marinette’s apartment, making it impossible to see the hardwood floors.

“I need help,” she said. She wore a panicked expression herself. She didn’t seem to feel any shame about the brightness of anxiety in her eyes, and the threat of tears. “I can’t find this one folder… and my meeting with the store executives is in three hours…”

“Oh,” he said, dumbly. “Well, I’ll help you look.” He dropped to his knees, and began to search through the mess of papers, patterns and more that were in the way of her search.

“I know it’s here somewhere,” she said. “I know it. I mean, I’ve barely left my apartment. I just don’t know _where_ it is. It’s probably on the floor somewhere… but I can’t crawl around anymore. I can barely bend over.”

“Don’t worry,” Adrien said. “What does the folder look like?”

“It’s pink, with white stripes,” she said. “It’s rather large… there’s just so many papers around and… oh my god, what was I thinking… I’m _so_ stressed I swear I’m going to go into an early labor… And I can’t extend my deadline any more because I’ve already extended it two months… If I go into labor because of his damn job…”

Adrien paused in his search, and walked on his knees over to her, kneeling before her. He reached out and grasped her hands. “You’re going to do fine, okay? I know it’s hard… I know it’s… difficult… but they understand why you’ve had to extend the deadline, and they _still_ want to see your work. That’s good. Okay? I know, I’ve been in this industry. In the modeling areas, but you know what I mean. My dad did stuff for this store before. _Trust me,_ they wouldn’t agree to an extension if they didn’t _really_ want your work. Okay?”

She nodded.

“And you and the babies are going to be fine,” he said. “I promise you. I’ll… I’ll help. If you want. I’ll be your assistant. So… why don’t you relax, and make some tea, and I’ll keep looking for the portfolio.”

“Thanks, Adrien,” she said, a little wearily. “I don’t know what is wrong with me… My hormones have been so out of whack lately.”

“I know,” Adrien said. He winced as she glared at him. “I mean, I understand that you’re going through a hard time. Not that I’ve been… not that I’m complaining or makinga negative—okay, why don’t you make some tea, or a snack, have you eaten recently? You probably have low blood sugar. Maybe drink some water. Or go for a walk. Just don’t slip on any ice—”

“Okay, okay, you mother hen,” she said, laughing and standing. “I feel like I’ve gotten so out of shape,” she said. “I’ve been going for walks, but I haven’t worked out or done—” she froze, and Adrien wondered if perhaps she was about to let slip something about being Ladybug. Marinette shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “It’s nothing,” she said finally, “I’m just—”

“Found it!” Adrien’s hand appeared on the others side of the counter, brandishing the pink and white portfolio.

“Oh! Thank you, thank you!” Marinette exclaimed, rushing around the counter and grabbing the portfolio, looking through to make sure everything was in order, and then hugged him. “Thank you so much. And you’re hired, if you want a part-time job.”

“Great,” he said enthusiastically. “I need the money actually—I technically can’t touch my trust fund until I’m thirty, and my dad cut my credit cards.”

“Oh,” she said, frowning. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” he shrugged. “I needed to grow up anyway.”

“Okay,” she said. She smiled. “I’m excited, Adrien.”

“Me too,” he said, grinning down at her.

She seemed to have realized they still had their arms wrapped around each other. “Well,” she said, stepping away, as they both looked awkwardly everywhere but at each other. “I should be going… I don’t know what traffic will be like, but it’ll probably be bad.”

“Right,” he nodded. “Why don’t I organize all these,” he motioned to the floor, “And have everything ready for you to work on when you get back?”

“That… would be perfect,” she said, beaming. “Keep track of how many hours you do—I want to make sure I pay you for everything you do.”

He nodded, and she quickly showered, got ready, gathered what she needed for the meeting, and left.

 

* * *

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, if I may have a moment.”

She paused, looking over her shoulder to see Mr. Agreste walking towards her. She smiled. “Mr. Agreste,” she said brightly. “I had no idea that you would be here—I’m afraid I made quite the buffoon of myself during the meeting in my surprise.”

“Not at all, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Mr. Agreste said, looking down at her with something akin to a… _smile._ In fact, it startled her with how warmly he seemed to be smiling, for she was used to him being cold and aloof at the best of times. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, I feel a little nervous… but I’m pleased with the feedback, and I was given some good changes to make, so… I feel good, I suppose,” she said brightly.

“Ah,” Mr. Agreste said, frowning slightly, and then gave her a small, knowing twitch of his lips. “I meant… with your pregnancy.”

“Oh,” she said, blinking in surprise. “I… um…”

That was the last thing she expected. Mr. Gabriel Agreste was interested in her pregnancy? That made… zero sense. But then again, she reminded herself, he was interested in her pregnancy at his Christmas Eve party. It made some sense that he would be interested now. But for what reason? “Well,” she said, “To be completely honest, I’m feeling quite… ready for them to come out.”

“Have you picked any names yet?” Mr. Agreste asked.

“Yes, well, sort of,” Marinette said. “I’ve decided on Thomas for the boy. But I haven’t gotten any ideas for the girl yet.”

“I see,” Mr. Agreste said. “Well, I’ve always been partial to the name Noémie.”

“Noémie?” Marinette asked. The name was particularly familiar, as if it were some dish she had tasted before, but could not remember where or when. “It’s a very lovely name,” she said. “I actually rather like it a lot. I’ll consider it, thank you.”

He smiled at her.

They stood there awkwardly, until she realized what he was waiting for. “The babies are fine,” she said. “They’re healthy, and all that.”

“Good,” Mr. Agreste said, nodding his head.

“I’m…” Marinette paused, wondering if she dared to continue. “I’m worried that I may have offended you… because it’s partly my fault that Adrien moved out of your home.”

Mr. Agreste’s formally slightly pleasant expression stilled into one of coldness again, the same look he wore during the meeting, and the same one he wore most of the time that Marinette saw him. She had often assumed that he wore it most of the time. “My son had long since stopped viewing my house as his home,” Mr. Agreste answered. “However, I appreciate your concern. I do not hold it against you—in fact, I was rather expecting it.”

“Expecting—?” Marinette prompted.

“That he would move closer to you,” Mr. Agreste said. “After all, with the twins to be born soon, it only made sense he would want to be near the three of you.”

She blinked in surprise, and then frowned, her confusion clearly evident on his face.

“Do you not know why?” Mr. Agreste asked, gazing at her with a studious, calculating look.

“Know what?” Marinette asked. “What would I know?”

“ _Why_ he wanted to be near you?” Mr. Agreste asked. “Why he has been struggling recently?”

Surprised he even knew his own son was struggling, when he had always seemed so distant from him, Marinette said, tentatively, “I know that he has—or had— _has_ some feelings for me.” Then, feeling abashed for speaking thus to Mr. Agreste, and wondering if it was some sort of breach of trust with Adrien to tell his father such a thing, she said quickly, “But nothing will happen from it—”

“This is all very clear to me,” Mr. Agreste said. “And it is not what I asked.”

She stared at him.

He took a slow step towards her. “Do you not _know_ , Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

Almost frightened, for now Mr. Agreste reminded her of someone she knew—and yet again, it was as if she were tasting something she could not quite recall. Though now the taste was bitter and left a foul taste in her mouth. “No,” she said finally. “No, I do not.”

Mr. Agreste nodded. “That is what I thought.” He took a step back to a comfortable distance. “Miss Dupain-Cheng, I hope that you can persuade my son to be more… proactive… in his obligations.”

He turned and walked away, but paused partway down the hall, “And congratulations, for making it into PFW.”

She blinked in surprise, something she seemed to be doing a lot of tonight, and watched as he walked away. How did he know she had gotten into the newcomer’s program in the Paris Fashion Week? But… of course! He must be on the board of directors of that as well. After all, _Gabriel Agreste_ was a household name all over the world. She let out a sort of excited sigh, and turned walking from the building. She dug her phone out of her bag and texted Alya to meet her at their favorite ice cream shop to celebrate the successful evening.

One thing was curious though, she thought, as she descended the steps to the subway, and that was the fact that Mr. Agreste was under the impression, or at least, seemed to be formally under the impression, that she was hiding something from him. And somehow Adrien knew as well. But what could that be? What on earth could it be that both Mr. Agreste _and_ Adrien knew that she didn’t? That pertained to _her,_ that is.

It was all rather… disconcerting.

“Marinette!”

Marinette looked up to see Alya waving her over, and hurried, or at least, hurried as fast as she was capable of at seven and a half months pregnant with twins, and drew Alya into a tight hug.

“Whoah there, Girl,” Alya said, laughing. “Okay, let’s get out of here and get something to eat. You will _not_ believe the day I’ve had—but _first,_ I want to hear _all_ about your meeting with the board. This is what you’ve been working towards!” Alya gave Marinette a tight squeeze around the shoulders, as they ascended the steps towards the ice cream shop.

“I know!” Marinette said, her voice somewhat high pitched due to her excitement and adrenaline. “I can’t believe how well it went! They definitely want me—and I officially signed the contract so it’s now a done deal. I’m… oh my gosh. You won’t believe it. I’m so excited… But I have so much work to do.”

They walked quickly down the sidewalk, and Marinette found her voice quickening as suddenly panic dropped onto her like a grand piano. “I mean… it’s halfway through March… and… I still have to create the specs of the designs, and… they have to be tested and… _made_ and… all this by the summer…”

“You can _do_ it, though,” Alya said confidently. “I know you can!”

“I know, I know,” Marinette said, a little glumly, “It’s just… I wish I was in a position to just… focus on one thing at a time. I have these designs to make, I have the Fall show to do… I don’t even know _how_ I got into that I just know that I’m forever grateful and… Well,” she said, slowing down because walking at the speed required to get out her nervous energy was doing a number on her pregnancy inflicted joints, “I’m hiring Adrien to be my assistant. Maybe I can even hire him to be my nanny…” she laughed at the irony of that.

Adrien… her nanny? That would at least satisfy whatever harebrained obsession he had with her children. Whatever it was, she hoped it would go away soon. Things would get complicated if Adrien and Chat ever interacted and got… _competitive_ in their desire to father her children.

But it still hurt that Chat seemed to have backed off. She felt guilt again at that thought.

She had no right to expect him to be one hundred percent into her and wanting to be a father, especially when she worked so hard to push him away.

She slowed to a halt.

Alya, seemingly haven’t not noticed that she stopped, kept going a few steps, before stopping herself. “Are you okay?” she asked, looking at Marinette with a worried expression.

“I’m… fine…” Marinette said softly. “I’m just… worried. About the father.”

“The father?” Alya asked, looking surprised. “He’s still in the picture? I thought you dumped him or whatever.”

Marinette glared at her, but let go of the expression quickly with a sigh. “I kind of did,” she said. “But then I hooked up with him over Christmas break.”

“ _What?!”_ Alya was by her side in an instant. “What do you _mean_ you hooked up with him? And… does this mean you’re _together?_ What about Adrien? Are you over him now? And… Like… why haven’t I met him yet? The father, that is.”

“Well,” Marinette said, looking at her friend with a hesitant expression. “I’ve barely seen him since, so—”

“What?!” Alya’s face turned from gleeful shock to anger. “Did he _dump_ you after you hooked up with him again? What an absolute _pig—”_

_“Look,”_ Marinette said, putting a hand up to silence Alya. “It’s not his fault, whatever it is. It’s… I pushed him away too many times for him to trust me, I think. I think he’s just… not… ready for me anymore. Or, I don’t know. Whatever it is, it’s my fault. So… I just need to… accept how things are.”

“I see,” Alya said thoughtfully. “Well, what about Adrien?”

“What about Adrien?” Marinette asked aloofly.

“Well,” Alya said. “Nino told me that Adrien told _him_ that Adrien wants to start things up with you.”

“Yeah, well, that was a few months ago, wasn’t it?” Marinette asked.

“Oh, yeah, like _Adrien_ could get over _you_ that quickly,” Alya said, rolling her eyes. “Are you still determined not to be with him?”

Marinette bit her lip as a response, unable to come up with a concrete argument, and Alya squealed. “That’s so _great,_ Girl! You should totally jump on that.” She linked arms with Marinette and they began walking towards Rosario’s again. “Okay, here’s the thing. Are you going to have him adopt? The babies, I mean.”

“No!” Marinette laughed. “No, he’s… I’m not even sure that we’re going to date, let alone marry or something. And, since he confessed he wanted to be with me at Christmas, we haven’t talked about it since. He’s given me space, in that regard. He hasn’t been pushy at all, in fact, most of the time, I feel like we’re just back to be being just friends.”

“Were you ever anything more?” Alya asked.

“Besides being mutually in love with each other?” Marinette asked. “Nope.”

“Well,” Alya said. “Time to change—”

A large _crack_ was heard, the the street below them shook as people yelled and screamed. “What was that?” Marinette asked, looking around for whatever danger could be nearby. That was too big—it had to be a bomb, or earthquake, or some kind of Akumatised human. “Alya?”

“Marinette,” Alya said seriously, “I need you to find shelter—actually, your apartment is close by, why don’t you go home if you can. I… have some stuff I need to do.”

“Can I help you with it?” Marinette asked, her heart rate quickening, a hand on her stomach in some automatic protective stance.

“No,” Alya said quickly. “It’s uh… I have to check on something, report on this, y’know, that stuff. But I need you to get home quickly. And stay there. Don’t leave no matter what.”

“Okay,” Marinette said, nodding. She turned and began to walk home, thankful that whatever had happened the ground was not shaking anymore. She only heard loud booms in the distance, and people shouting in panic.

She spend a few minutes directing people to shelter, hating that she wasn’t able in her present state, to actually do untying _useful_. She had to trust that her superhero counterparts would do their job. But an Akuma had not been spotted in many months. Not since before she found out she was pregnant. How would Chat and the others be able to defeat them without her?

 

 

* * *

She first knocked on Adrien’s door, to make sure he was alright. She felt nervous when she heard no answer, and now hurried to her own apartment. He was not there either, but her papers and notes were all organized and everything in complete order. She wished she knew where he was, and that he was safe. It seemed the loud booms and shakes had stopped for now—and she only hoped that the rest of her companions were able to defeat whatever it was. And Alya… where could Alya have gone? She desperately wanted to know that Alya was safe.

She turned on the TV and watched as the reporter relayed the current events.

Marinette only wished she was able to help. She felt so _useless_ just sitting here. She was _Ladybug_ , for crying out loud. She should be doing something. Not just _sitting_ here.

“It’s alright, Marinette,” Tikki said. “Queen Bee, Vixen and Chat will be able to handle this situation, I promise. And Adrien is going to be okay, wherever he is.”

“But what about returning the Akuma to it’s natural state?” Marinette asked. “How will they do that without the Ladybug Miraculous?”

“I trust that they’ll be able to defeat it somehow,” Tikki answered, but she seemed hesitant in her answer, as though she was not quite sure of its validity. “I know you’re worried, Mari. But this is what happens.”

“I know, I know,” Marinette sighed. “I just feel so useless. Like I’m this lump just _sitting_ here and they’re out there saving Paris.”

“You’re not a lump,” Tikki said, amused. “And you’re not just sitting here. You’re keeping two little babies safe. It wouldn’t be safe at this stage of the pregnancy to go save Paris. Soon, when the babies are born and you recover from the birth, you can go back to Akuma and Bad-Guy butt kicking.”

Marinette sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right, Tikki. I’m not sure… I just…” she exhaled slowly. “I’m just so stressed. These babies couldn’t have come at a worse time. I mean, how am I going to handle being a new mom when my official line is released? And when I partake in Paris Fashion Week? And all the stuff that comes afterwards? A single mom doing all that while getting used to _being_ a mom?”

“Well,” Tikki said with a wink, “It’s a good thing then that you’ll have Adrien as your nanny and assistant!”

“Yeah… a nanny and assistant that I can’t even afford to pay,” Marinette said drily. “I mean, I can, now that I’ve officially gotten the department store job, but… it’s still going to be a stretch.”

“And,” Tikki continued, “You’ll have your parents to help with the babies! And Chat, too.”

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to have Chat involved?” Marinette asked, giving Tikki a somewhat cold look.

Tikki frowned.”I don’t think I ever said you could _never_ be involved with him, or have him involved,” she said, sounding slightly offended. “I merely meant that… it’s safer to have things separate. It’s really sad—but…”

“I know, I know,” Marinette said, sighing again. “I wish he could be involved. But I’m not sure I want to _be_ with him. Because of… you know…”

“Yeah,” Tikki said. “ _Adrien.”_

Marinette groaned. “Why did I have to fall in love with two people? How unfair is that? And it’s all my fault too. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to do it.”

“That’s not something you can control, Silly,” Tikki said with an amused giggle. “You make it sound like you just snapped your fingers one day and decided you were going to fall in love with Chat as well as Adrien.”

Marinette smiled at the imagery. “I might as well have,” she said. “Although it was far more gradual. I didn’t even realize until a year or so ago.”

“I know,” Tikki said softly. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, Marinette. You can’t control who you do or don’t fall in love with. You can’t force love, just like you can’t force yourself to fall out of love. But your _actions_ , those you can control.”

Marinette nodded firmly. “That’s why it’s good I’ve decided not to be involved romantically with either Adrien _or_ Chat. Maybe I should tell Chat who I am, under the condition that nothing can happen between us. That way nothing gets complicated.”

“That’s fair,” Tikki said thoughtfully. “Though it might be hard, having that last barrier between you two taken away. Are you sure you’d be able to do it?”

“I would be,” Marinette said.

“Well,” Tikki said, sounding a little weary. “Then I’ll support you.”

Marinette nodded. “After all this with this Akuma is taken care of, I’ll tell Chat who I am.”

The news was still running when she got up to make herself dinner, starting to feel her blood sugar drop with duel anxiety and annoyance at herself for not being able to help, when she heard a rustling at the balcony doors.

There was really only one person who visited her through that way, and she hurried around the counter as she heard the door open and unsteady steps into the apartment. “Chat?!” she exclaimed, her heart leaping into her throat and simultaneously stopping in what she saw before her.

Chat, lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, bruised, cut and bleeding.

She hurried over to him, dropping to her knees as she examined him closely. He seemed to be out of sorts—unable to focus on her. In fact, it seemed to her that he was—dropping into unconsciousness.

“Chat!”

He did not answer. He was now fully unconscious, and she shook him, knowing that he was wounded, and that it would be unwise to let him fall asleep. She would have to wait until he transformed into whatever his true self was—and bring him to a hospital. She would just pretend that she found him in her apartment, and missed the whole ‘arriving’ as Chat part. That way she wouldn’t be betraying his trust. She could do that. Pretend she doesn’t know who he really is. If she even recognized him. He was most likely a complete stranger to her.

“Chat!” she said softly, sitting back and waiting.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Tikki zoomed out of Marinette’s scarf to land on her shoulder. “You know… you’re going to get your wish—you’ll be seeing exactly who Chat is in real life.”

“I know,” Marinette said, her heart pounding in her throat. _This wasn’t how she wanted to find out,_ she thought, fighting back tears as she watched the blinking lights on Chat’s ring slowly dim down to just one, and then… to zero.

She squeezed her eyes shut, as she heard the familiar, and yet distinctly different, sound of a miraculous holder transforming back to normal. She heard Tikki gasp loudly, and said, “What? What is it?”

“Marinette…” Tikki said, her voice shaky. “You need to see this.”

Marinette slowly opened her eyes.

Her eyes widened, and her breath caught in a sharp gasp.

“A… _Adrien?”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HHH
> 
> To be continued…
> 
> Thanks for reading! I should have the chapter up soon (hopefully) in a timely manner (hopefully) :)
> 
> Next time: What will happen now that BOTH Marinette AND Adrien know each other’s secret? (But don’t KNOW each other KNOWS about their secrets?) You’ll just have to wait and find out ;D
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes in this, I decided to post it after editing just a few times so as to not prolong the accidental hiatus :)
> 
> Also: I’ve had it in my mind since the beginning that Vixen (fox miraculous) and Queen Bee (Bee Miraculous) are simultaneously existing in the world of this fic, but I don’t think I ever outright mentioned it in the story??? I had one scene where they all interact back in the first few chapters, but for some reason I had cut it, and then forgot to add them back in????? Anyway, they exist, and will be playing bigger and bigger roles as the story progresses into Part 2. I was just too wrapped up in Adrienette/Ladynoir drama I forgot other characters exist LMAO >.>’’’’’’’’’’’
> 
> (Also "Vixen" is an unoriginal name for the fox miraculous but dammit I like it so... ;)
> 
> Someone commented recently on tumblr this fic was a crackfic and… you know, I never put it in those words exactly in my mind but. You’re not wrong. This story is pretty ridiculous even by my standards lol


	13. Chapter 13

His soft, shallow breathing made it difficult for her to gauge how well he was recovering. He was still unconscious—having been so for over twelve hours. But she knew that was the effects of the anesthesia. The doctors had said he needed to sleep a while longer. But he should have woken up by now. By now, she should have been able to talk to him.

His father, who had been called when Adrien had been admitted to the hospital, was speaking to the surgeons. He had barely been in Adrien’s room since he had gotten out of surgery, and Marinette was not sure what use it was asking the doctors the same questions over and over again. Or at least, she assumed that was what Mr. Agreste was doing. How long does it take to ask how the surgery went and if there would be any complications? It’s been hours and he had hardly visited his son’s sickbed.

“Marinette,” Tikki whispered, peeking out from her collar, “Is Adrien and Plagg okay?”

“They’re fine,” Marinette said, though she wasn’t sure of it herself. “They’re both unconscious though…” She glanced at the small being tucked into the breast pocket of Adrien’s hospital gown, frowning and wondering how she had never noticed the creature in all her years around Adrien.

Plagg had been unconscious as well, when Chat had transformed into Adrien. Tikki thought it may have been because he was too depleted of energy.

Marinette couldn’t figure out how she had never known Adrien and Chat were the same. How could she have been so _stupid_ as to never have figured it out? Never have noticed?

At the moment, she only felt panic. Not joy or relief, knowing that the two men she loved were the same person. No, she felt panic. Fear. Confusion. Somehow what she had always wished for, on a superficial level, had come true. And she didn’t know how to handle it. The fact that _Adrien_ was the father of her child… “I’ll be right back, Adrien,” she whispered, standing up slowly and walking from the room. In the hallway, Tikki emerged from Marinette’s scarf.

“What are you going to _do_?” Tikki asked. “Adrien is Chat! This is… this is everything you could have hoped for!”

“I know,” Marinette said, leaning against the wall. “It’s everything I could have hoped for, and yet it’s absolutely the worst thing that could have happened.”

“What do you mean?” Tikki asked.

“I mean,” Marinette said, “I mean…” But what did she mean? What could possibly be bad about this situation?

The truth was: everything.

“How am I supposed to keep this secret?” Marinette asked. “How am I supposed to keep the fact that I know Adrien and Chat are the same person secret? Without him knowing?”

“Why would you even want to?” Tikki asked. “After all, you just found out that the two men you love, who love you, who are the father of your child, are the same person!”

Marinette shook her head. “But I’m not ready for that,” she whispered. “I’ve gotten used to the idea that I can’t be with either of them. But now… I can suddenly be with both of them?”

“You do realize they’re the same person,” Tikki reminded her.

“I know, I know,” Marinette said, sighing. “It’s just…” she fiddled with her hands. “I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

“Ready for what?” Tikki asked.

“Ready for… You know… facing this sort of reality…”

Tikki gazed at her shrewdly. “You mean, after knowing all this, you still want to keep it a secret?”

“Weren’t you the one who told me I needed to keep it a secret from _everyone_? Even Chat?” Marinette countered.

“Well, that was before I knew he was Adrien,” Tikki protested.

“But the same thing applies as it did back then,” Marinette argued, her face heating up in her frustration at the the impossibleness of the situation. “If Chat can’t know the truth, then Adrien _definitely_ can’t know the truth!”

Tikki stared at her. “Well,” she said slowly. “I guess if that’s what you really want…”

“Of course it isn’t what I want,” Marinette hissed, then deflated slightly, feeling ashamed of herself. “Of course it isn’t what I want,” she said, calmer and quieter. “It’s just… I’m _scared_. Suddenly I can have everything I want—and I could totally mess it up. Like I always do.” Marinette took in a shaky breath, her eyes stinging. “I might have everything I could ever want—or I might lose everything I’ve ever dreamed of.” She wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand, “I’m not ready for that. For now, just for now, I think it’s best if…”

“If what?” Tikki asked.

“If, you know… I pretend I don’t know anything. About Chat being Adrien and vice versa.”

Tikki gazed at her long and hard. “So because you’re scared of losing everything, you want to keep things the way they are?”

“Yes,” Marinette said, nodding her head.

Tikki narrowed her eyes slightly. “Marinette, that is the most idiotic thing you have ever said.”

Marinette blinked in surprise, not used to Tikki speaking to her that way. “What?”

“Don’t you realize! If Adrien is worth being with, then they’re worth the effort! Don’t you think you’re being a little selfish?”

“That’s rich, coming from _you,”_ Marinette retorted softly.

Kwami and human glared at each other, until finally, Tikki sighed. “If this is your decision, I’ll support you. But I just want you to know that I have faith that you could make it work with Adrien. Now that I know that both of them are the same person, I’m sure that he’d be able to keep your secret. And… I want you to be happy. You’ve been in love with Adrien for years, and now nothing is standing in your way except yourself!”

Marinette glared at her hands, and her eyes slowly softened as she realized how… well, as Tikki put it, how _idiotic_ she was being. “You’re right, Tikki,” she said. “You’re absolutely right… I’m… I’m being foolish about all this.”

“Yes, you are,” Tikki said, smiling at her. “But… whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”

Marinette nodded. “Thank you, Tikki.” She heard something beep, and nurses walk into Adrien’s room. Tikki quickly flew back into Marinette’s scarf, and they hurried towards Adrien’s hospital room. She hovered in the door as the nurses fussed over Adrien, who’s eyes were bleary and unfocused. After a few minutes, the nurses left, telling her that she could go back inside.

“Hey,” she said, still hovering in the doorway.

He took his time in answering. “Hey,” he said, finally. He looked past her, working hard to focus his eyes.

“Your dad is talking to the doctors,” she said, finally stepping into the room. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” She paused, and then sat down in her chair. He watched her carefully. “How do you feel?” she asked, finally.

He shifted slightly, and winced. “They say I broke some ribs—and ripped up my arm.” He looked down at his arm, which was bandaged and in a sling.

“Some car accident,” she said.

He looked at her, questioningly.

“That’s what I told them,” she exclaimed. “That you were caught in a car accident.”

With his free hand, he reached up and patted his breast pocket, sighing audibly with relief.

“So…” she said. “What did happen?”

She would wait for him to answer. To reveal the truth, at least in part, before she laid the whole truth out to him. And besides, she didn’t want to shock him too much. After all, he had just woken up. How would he react to _her_ being Ladybug? Would he go into cardiac arrest? She didn’t doubt it.

“That’s about it,” he said. “I got caught up in the whole Akuma affair.”

She nodded.

“Did I…” he began. “Did I look a certain way? When I arrived at your apartment?”

“You don’t remember?” she asked, blinking in surprise.

“I don’t remember seeing you before I passed out,” he said. “Were you there?”

She nodded. “I was in my kitchen.”

He did not respond straight away. “What did I look like?” he asked finally.

“What… do you mean?” she asked, her heart rate quickening.

“Did I Look a certain way?” he asked. He was pointedly not looking at her. Then, slowly, he looked her in the eye. “Was I different?”

She took in a deep breath.

“No,” she said, finally, after what seemed like minutes of baited breath between them. “No, you were as you always were, Adrien.”

* * *

 

“Easy, easy…” she said, following him up the steps. “Are you sure you want to be doing this?” she asked.

“Well,” he said, “At least you’ll break my fall if I do fall.”

They shared a chuckle at that imagery. “Just make sure you get to your bed alright,” she said. “Okay… there, you’re at the top.”

She followed him up the last few steps and they stood awkwardly. She looked at him carefully, her eyes lingering on the ring that had never captured her attention much. Now, it seemed to be the most obvious thing about him. How could she have never _realized_ that Chat was actually Adrien? And that Adrien was Chat? It all seemed so… obvious now.

“Adrien,” she said, “Do you mind if I go in with you? In a moment? I want to make sure you’re all set—and we can make dinner. I’m sure even _my_ cooking would be better than the hospital food.”

“That would be great, thanks,” he said. He unlocked his door and stepped in, and she went into her own apartment to gather what she needed from there.

“Marinette,” Tikki said, flying out from Marinette’s coat. “Why haven’t you told him the truth yet? That you know who he is?”

“Because,” Marinette hissed, looking over her shoulder through the open doors where Adrien was walking to the couch in his own apartment. “Because,” she repeated, slower and quieter this time, “It would totally destroy him—I mean, it wouldn’t, it would probably be great… but he just got out of the hospital. I don’t want to shock him too much before he’s had a chance to recover.”

“But don’t you think that it might be a huge relief to him if he knew that _you_ were Ladybug?” Tikki asked.

“And like I’ve been saying,” Marinette said. “That’s a little hypocritical, Tikki.”

Tikki had the grace to look stung by this.

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said. “I don’t mean it like that. It’s just… you spent so long convincing me that I should’t tell Chat who I really am. And that’s… That could have solved all this drama and _angst,_ and heartache.”

“I was just trying to look out for you,” Tikki said, looking at her sadly.

“And what about them?” Marinette asked. “What about the Thomas and…” she still hadn’t thought of a girl’s name yet. She let out a sigh. “You know, I think you had a point—back then. About keeping things secret. Having a superhero mom is hard enough. But _two_ superheroes for your parents? That would be impossible for two little kids to comprehend.”

“But Marinette, you sound like you don’t want Adrien or Adrien as Chat to know who his children are.”

“Of course I do,” Marinette said. “And he will. I just… I just need time. Adrien isn’t the only person that’s going to have a hard time processing everything. I need time too.”

Tikki’s eyes softened. “Of course you do,” she said, flying onto Marinette’s shoulder and resting her head on Marinette’s jaw.

Marinette heaved a breath. “Alright,” she said, turning around and facing the room across the hall. “I think I’m ready to see Adrien again. But not to tell him anything. I don’t want… I don’t want to complicate anything at the moment.”

“If you say so,” Tikki said. “But really, Marinette, I think, knowing _Adrien_ and _Chat are the same_ , it would be safe to tell him…”

She shook her head. “Just… give me time, Tikki. I’ll tell him eventually, if and when the time is right. After he’s recovered a bit. Here,” she motioned for Tikki to hide, and the kwami flew into her satin scarf. She took in another deep breath, gathered herself and the food into her arms, and walked across the hall and into Adrien’s apartment.

* * *

 

She yawned as she made her way upstairs. “Come on, Alya,” she said, motioning for her friend to follow her, “Let’s get dinner started.”

“Okay-Dokay,” Alya said, jumping up and following her out of Marinette’s studio and into the stairs.

“Thanks for helping me with those last few adjustments,” Marinette said, yawning again. “I think that shirt’s prototype might be…” she paused halfway up the steps, her senses prickling. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Alya asked, feigning innocence.

“I _mean,”_ Marinette said. “There are some people in Adrien’s apartment.”

“Oh, so now Adrien isn’t allowed to have friends over? Come on, Marinette, you’re like one of those jealous girlfriends,” Alya said, brushing her off.

“No, I mean,” Marinette’s head looked at Adrien’s door. “I’m pretty sure the lights are off—and…. Whoever they are, they’re sneaking around. I think he might have burglars in there.”

She felt Tikki stir in her sweater pocket, and reached for her phone. If she wasn’t pregnant, she would have transformed and taught those burglars who’s who. But as it was… “I’m going to call the police,” she said, taking her phone out of her pocket.

“Wait—no!” Alya reached up and grabbed Marinette’s hand. “Look,” she said, quietly, “There are _no_ burglars in Adrien’s apartment… it’s…” she sighed. “It’s a baby shower.”

Marinette’s eyes widened.

“A _surprise_ baby shower,” Alya continued, “So _please_ act surprised when you go in there?”

“Alya…” Marinette said, smiling softly. “That’s… you didn’t have to…”

“Of course I did,” Alya said smugly. “I am, after all, your best friend, and the _godmother_ of your twins…?”

“Of course you are,” Marinette said. “But still…”

“Look, if you’re tired, we can call it off,” Alya said. “But… they’re all really excited to see you. You’ve been so busy lately that you’ve hardly been social at all. Not that we’re complaining—your business is really taking off. But I think you’ll have some fun.”

Marinette gave Alya a placid look. “Of course I want to go in,” she said. “I just… you could have given me a little bit of a hint,” she teased, as they walked up. “And don’t worry, I’m _incredibly_ skilled at acting surprised.”

They stopped beside Adrien’s door, and the two women looked at each, each nodding. Marinette reached out and knocked on the door, and Adrien answered, telling her to come in in what must be an attempt at a casual, breezy voice.

She opened the door, and saw darkness, before the lights turned on and she was blasted by a loud number of “Surprise!” in various forms.

“Oh!” she said, trying to act surprised, but… _in_ her surprise at the sheer number of people inside the apartment, she suddenly forgot how to be surprised. What did one act like when one was surprised?

Everyone began laughing and congratulating her, and Adrien walked over to her, his arm in a cast, but no longer in a sling. “You’re not surprised at all, are you?” he whispered, as he offered her his good arm. She took it gingerly, and he led her to the couch, where she sat down and a crown was placed on her head.

“This is a little much,” she laughed. People were talking, and getting food and beverages for themselves, and Alya brought over a plate for her. “Thanks,” she said, “I’m starving.”

Adrien sat down next to her on the couch, and said, “You came up later than we expected—you weren’t working too hard, were you?”

“No, I’m fine,” she answered, smiling at him. The guests all laughed, Adrien and Marinette a little bashfully, when Kim shouted out that they were already acting like newlyweds, which made everyone except Adrien and Marinette laugh.

The presents were, as Marinette suspected, greatly appreciated by herself. After all, her parents have given her many gifts—many things from her own upbringing, but she would need _two_ of everything, not just _one._ She was, after all, having twins. By the time the last guest left, and Alya and Nino began cleaning up, Marinette found herself sitting at Adrien’s table, reading a book that Rose gave her on the use of scents on newborns, and aware of Adrien gazing at her. “What is it?” she asked, looking up at him, and smiling. Her smile dropped away instantly, at the retched look on his face. “What is it?” she asked again, her tone switching from teasing to worried. He looked like he had just heard that all holidays had been cancelled.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head.

“No,” she said slowly, “Something is the matter. I can tell, you know. And it’s not hard to—you look absolutely…” she refrained from telling him just _how_ miserable he looked.

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head again.

She sighed, exasperated. “Just… tell the truth,” she said. “Be honest—what’s on your mind?”

He risked a glance at her, then looked quickly away. “It’s just… everyone was assuming that I was the father. They kept secretly congratulating me. Kim almost put me in the toast.”

“Oh, so that’s what that part was,” she said, frowning. Kim, who had brought alcohol though it was technically a dry party, had been smashed and decided to toast the pregnancy. It was, to the say the least, far more graphic than Marinette thought anyone was quite in the mood for. She suddenly caught on to what Adrien had said. “Oh,” she said, “So… it bothered you that they thought you were the father?”

The thought somehow made her throat seize up. Was this an indication of Adrien’s reaction when she finally revealed who she really was? That she was also Ladybug?

“No,” he said quickly. “It’s more that… since I’m…” he paused, “ _not_ , it just was a bit awkward. And a bit painful. Having to tell each and every one of them, sans Nino and Alya, that I was, in fact, _not the father.”_ He was looking at her pointedly, and she blinked, before nodding.

“Yeah, I can imagine how that would be awkward,” she said. “But the night is over. Thanks, by the way, for hosting it here.”

He shrugged, looking slightly disappointed about something. “I’ve been bored out of my mind—and besides, we couldn’t risk you coming back to your apartment early and seeing everything.”

“It was pretty spectacular,” Marinette said. “I’m so glad Alya invited my parents, they really had fun, even though they were like… the oldest people here.”

“Yeah, well, they catered the evening so I’d say they deserved an invite,” Adrien laughed.

She grinned back at him. “Anyway,” she said. “Do you need help? How are you feeling? It’s been a little bit since your accident.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “No, I’m healing alright. I’m… you know,” he shrugged, rolling his bad shoulder experimentally. “It’ll always be a little sore, but… I should be able to use it more now.”

“Right,” she said. “Good.”

They sat there in an awkward silence, and she realized that this would have been a clue, even if she hadn’t discovered he was really Chat. No regular human would be able to heal so fast. Him being a miraculous holder meant that minor breaks and bruises would heal much faster than that of a non-miraculous holder.

“Well,” she said. “I think I’ll go to bed. I’m absolutely _exhausted.”_

He rose with her, and walked with her out of her apartment and to the door of her own. She paused, before turning to look at him. She opened her mouth, wondering if now would be the time to finally tell him she _knew_. After nearly aweek and a half, she should finally tell him. She closed her mouth. No, she wasn’t ready. He would have to wait. They both would.

“Goodnight, Adrien,” she said.

He nodded, “‘Night, Marinette.”

She hesitated, before standing on her tip-toes and gently pressing her lips against his cheek. As she slowly drew away, he moved with her slightly, and she could feel his warm breath on her neck as he moved closer her, his hands hovering on her back, wanting to hold her, but hesitant to.

She knew, in that instant, she could initiate everything. “ _Adrien_ …” she murmured.

He made some kind of response that she could not discern, moving closer to her, his hands holding now resting firmly on the small of her back.

But this was wrong. He thought she was Marinette, but what about Ladybug? He didn’t know they were the same person. And he had told her that he had moved on from Ladybug. Ladybug, who was pregnant with his children—he had told her _himself_ that he had moved on from her, seemingly without a second glance. Suddenly, frustration and hurt flared up in her. And frustration at _herself_ , as well, for putting both of them in this situation to begin with.

She drew away quickly, causing him to jerk back, surprised.

“Goodnight,” she said, refusing to look him in the eye.

“Marinette—”

She closed the door, and did not hear any knocks, but only the sound of Adrien’s footsteps towards his own apartment after a few moments of tense silence.

* * *

 

She couldn’t sleep. Not even Adrien’s Christmas gift of a high end body pillow was much help. She let out an exasperated groan, and sat up, rubbing her back, and cursing the fact that she happened to get pregnant with _twins._ But the pain she was feelings wasn’t the real reason she could sleep. It was because of what happened only a few hours ago. With Adrien. In the hall.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this…” she muttered, getting out of bed and slipping on her slippers and a bathrobe. God knows how awful she looked, disheveled and her hair a mess, and two weeks from her due date.

By the time she had reached Adrien’s apartment door and knocked on it, she already reconsidered this plan of action. She shouldn’t do this—he was sleeping. She shouldn’t interrupt his sleep. She was so rude to him last night, this would just be throwing oil on the fire.

She turned to go, when the door opened behind her. She turned to see Adrien standing, wearing pajama pants but… no shirt. He stared at her blankly. “What are you doing?” he asked, finally.

“I…” she struggled to lift her gaze from her impeccably flawless chest and stomach to his eyes, a blush creeping into her cheeks. His own cheeks were warmed, and she said, her voice slightly thick with the effort, “Do you mind if I come in?”

He shook his head, and stepped aside for her to enter, and closed the door behind her. She let out a soft, discreet sigh of disappointment as he grabbed a t-shirt from his table, where fresh laundry had been folded but not put away yet, and put it on. “So,” he said, turning to face her fully. “Are you okay? It’s really late.”

“Oh, I know,” she said. “I just… I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why?” he seemed concerned. “Is everything alright the twins?”

“I think so,” she said. “It’s more that I… I feel bad. About last night.”

“Last night? Oh,” he said, frowning.

“Yeah,” she turned away from him slightly. “I guess I… feel bad that I kind of came onto you. I’m sorry. It was…inappropriate.”

“No,” he said, a slight urgency to his voice. “It wasn’t. I came onto you just as much as you came onto me.”

She nodded.

“Why…” he began, and stopped himself, before finally, hesitantly, continuing. “Why did you stop? I mean—I understand why, but… you seemed upset at me for some reason. Did I do something?”

“Oh!” She blinked in surprise, unsure and unable to tell him the real reason she was temporarily upset at him. “No, you didn’t do anything, it’s just… this mystery woman you’re in love with, I didn’t think she’d like it very much if you were kissingme.”

It was his turn to blink in surprise. “That’s…” he let out a small chuckle, “That doesn’t matter.”

Her mouth dropped open. “So she doesn’t matter to you anymore, does she?” she asked, flabbergasted.

“No!—I—”

“I guess I _am_ some kind of replacement bandaid,” she said, crossing her arms as best she could.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not having this argument with you again.”

She tried glaring at him, before deflating slightly. “I…” she began. “Yes, I do like you,” she said. “I like you a _lot_ , actually, and have since I was fifteen.”

“Then why do we have the same arguments over rand over?” he asked. “Why can’t we just move past… everything, and be together?”

“Well,” she said. “It’s complicated.”

“And why is that?” he asked.

“Because,” she said, bitingly. “You’re in love with someone else.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself. And he began to laugh. She glared at him.

“You know, you can be quite clueless sometimes, Marinette,” he said.

“Oh?” she asked, “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

They stared at each other, and Marinette frowned. What did he mean, _she_ was clueless? “What… do you mean?” she asked, finally.

His own face had taken on a peculiar affect at her own words, and he responded, “What do _you_ mean?”

“That depends,” she said. “On what you know.”

“I know a lot,” he said. “What do _you_ know?”

They stared at each other.

“Well, I know a lot too,” she answered. “I know… about you… and…”

Another silence fell. “Do you know?” he asked, his eyes wide.

“Do _you_ know?” she asked. She took a few steps towards him.

“Do I know—” he asked, but wasn’t able to finish, as she crossed the distance between them, and drew him into a kiss.

She felt his hands now held her arms more confidently, and then reach around to her hips, pulling her as flush against him as was possible with her being pregnant with twins. Her hands gripped his shoulders, and she let out a soft gasp as she drew away. “Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked.

“Why didn’t you—?” was his response.

She shook her head, a idiotic smile on her face. “I was scared,” she said.

“Oh,” he murmured, drawing her into an embrace.

“Can you believe—oh!” She frowned, an odd sensation occurring in her lower regions.

Adrien tensed beside her, worry rippling through his body as he asked, “What is it? Are you okay?”

The sound of liquid hitting the floor at their feet as her water broke was the only immediate answer he was given.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> We’re on the countdown! Both for the imminent birth of the twins, and the conclusion of the story! There’s approximately three chapters left :3
> 
> See you soon!


	14. Chapter 14

 

 

“Alright, Ms. Dupain-Cheng, just press that button if you need anything, okay?” the nurse said, smiling brightly at her, before heading towards the door. “Dr. Borde should be here in about an hour.”

“Thanks,” Marinette said, a little weakly.

Adrien sat by her side, clenching and unclenching his hands and jaw.

“What is it?” Marinette asked, glancing over at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me—tell Chat, that is, that you were pregnant with twins?” Adrien asked her.

She looked at him, startled. “What?” she asked.

He gave her a look that told her he knew she heard him perfectly. “Well,” she said, a little slowly to gather her thoughts. “I knew that you—Adrien—knew Chat Noir, and I thought… if you both knew that someone who looked somewhat familiar and was having twins and… I thought between the two of you, you would have figured it out.”

He gave her a flat look.

“What?” she asked, a little defensively. “I was pregnant and alone, and I didn’t handle things very well, but—” another contraction came as a saving grace and her attention focused on that, and less on the awkward and terrifying conversation at hand.

“We can discuss this more later,” Adrien said, giving his hand to her to squeeze. “I guess the point is, I know now that I’m the father… and though I really, really wish I knew the whole time that I was having twins, I guess…” But she could tell he couldn’t quite forgive her for it. “You were going through a hard time,” he said, as if trying to convince himself of her rationale. “And I’ll try to move past it until we talk next. At least I know now, and other people will too.”

“Um, Adrien?” she paused, as the contractions subsided, “How many people besides you and me know you’re the father?”

“Besides us, you mean?” Plagg asked from behind Adrien’s chair, where he was chatting amicably with Tikki.

The four sat in contemplative silence for a while, before she realized something that had been pushed to the back burner since her water broke. “How long have _you_ known, Adrien?”

“How long have you known?” he countered.

“I asked first,” was her response.

He took his time to answer. Then, slowly, he said, “Since that night we… at Christmas time.”

“ _Christmas?”_ she demanded, sitting up slightly despite how uncomfortable she was and staring at him. “ _Christmas?_ Are you _serious?_ ”

He shrugged, wincing slightly. “Well, you seemed so hellbent on keeping everything a secret, even from each other, that I just… couldn’t force myself to tell you.”

She continued to stare at him, and he said, defensively, “Well, _you’ve_ known for a while and didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, but not since _Christmas…”_ she muttered loudly.

He shook his head, muttering something of his own under his breath that she could not hear. Then he looked up at her, his green eyes bristling with something akin to anguish. “You know, we really messed this up.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I can’t believe _you_ are _…_ you know. _Him.”_

“And I can’t believe you’re _her.”_

“I know.” She shrugged. “It’s weird how we become completely different people, isn’t it? When we become them.”

He nodded.

“It never even occurred to me that the two of you could be the same person,” she said. “I mean… I guess I just assumed… I never knew the real…you know. Him. You.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said.

“What are the chances, huh?” Plagg asked, coming out from behind the chairs. “Who would have thought you two would have been in love with each other _twice._ What _idiots.”_

Tikki smacked the back of his head. “We were all fooled—not to mention there are _rules_ about this sort of things. But… I really am glad that things have worked out the way they have. Marinette, Adrien… I hope you two are able to… make things work.” The two kwami beamed at them.

“Now get me some camembert,” Plagg ordered, giving Adrien a stern look.

“What, _now_?” Adrien demanded. “Plagg, my son and daughter are about to be born.”

“So I need to keep my energy up,” Plagg begged. “Come on, Adrien…”

“None for me, please,” Tikki said. “I’ll just… have some cookies.”

“What am I? A waiter?” Adrien demanded. “Fine, I’ll go get some cheese—”

“ _Camembert_!” Plagg interrupted.

“And cookies,” Tikki added.

Adrien narrowed his eyes, but nodded. “Fine. And I’ll get something for Marinette too, and that’ll be the _real_ reason I’m leaving. You… want anything, Marinette?” he asked, somewhat timidly.

“I’ll… I’d like some more ice chips,” Marinette said, handing the empty cup to Adrien.

He smiled at her, before glaring at Plagg and wandering off, Plagg hurrying after him.

“Can you believe it, Marinette?” Tikki asked, hovering above Marinette’s head as they watched Adrien and Plagg leave the room.

“I know!” Marinette frowned, “To think so much pain and angst could have been avoided if we were just honest with each other in the first place…”

Tikki landing in Marinette’s lap with a soft _thump._ “I feel I have to take some responsibility for that,” the kwami said, her antennas drooping. “If I hadn’t forced you to keep the secret from Adrien _and_ Chat, this could have all been…”

“It’s my fault too,” Marinette said. “After I found out about Adrien being Chat, I… I just didn’t… I was scared…” her shoulder’s slumped. “What should have been the best news of my life became the most terrifying. I needed time to accept that they were the same person.”

Tikki’s antenna’s perked up. “But now that you both know, and you’ve both had time to accept things, you can be a happy family together!”

“A family?” Marinette frowned again. That was true… They _would_ be a family together. Of a sort. “That’s odd,” she said. “I can’t believe… that… we’d be like… a real _family.”_

 _Adrien was the father of her children._ She understood the fact, accepted it, and had moved on from the shock, but now she realized something different. How was she going to tell people? After months of pretending not to have been with Adrien, that these children couldn’t _possibly_ be his… how would she just turn around and say that they were? A paternity test? But why would anyone believe it? Would _anyone_ believe her? And what if they did? Would they… hate her for it? Would they think she manipulated him in some way?

She sank deeper into her pillows, frown lines creasing her forehead. “I think I’m in for a rough ride,” she said.

“Yes, you are, Marinette. You’re about to give birth to twins,” Tikki reminded her.

“No, I mean… How am I supposed to—how are _we_ , Adrien and I, supposed to move on from this? What are we supposed to tell people about… you know… this?” she gestured to her stomach. “About Adrien being the father of—”

There was a knock on the door, and she looked up, smiling, “Ah, Adrien, that was fast…”

But the man standing, in a pristine suit, in the doorframe was not _Adrien_ Agreste.

“Mr… Agreste,” Marinette said, her eyes wide with shock. What on earth was _he_ doing here? “What are you—”

“I heard from Nathalie that you had gone into labor,” Mr. Agreste said. He stood at alert, though he stared intently at her.

“Well, not quite yet,” she answered. “It’ll be a few more hours probably before I have to start pushing.”

Why was she telling _him_ this? She continued on, “What do I owe the pleasure of this visit—”

“Miss Dupain-Cheng—may I call you Marinette?”

Marinette blinked in surprise. Calling someone, especially her, by her first name seemed so unnatural to the mental image she had of Mr. Agreste that at first she just sat there, staring at him, open mouthed. Finally she shut her mouth with a sharp snap. “Uh… yes… you may…”

“Good.” He stepped into the room, looking around. “I called ahead, some weeks ago, and reserved this room for you. I thought you may be more comfortable in a private room.”

Marinette frowned. “ _You_ got me this private room?” she asked.After a moment’s pause, “Why?”

Mr. Agreste smiled at her, and it did not seem like such a soft and gentle feature came naturally to him, for it came out more like a grimace. “I want the mother of my grandchildren to be comfortable.”

Her eyes widened.

“Surely you have guessed that I know you are carrying Adrien’s children,” Mr. Agreste said, walking to the window. It was clouded, so that it let in plenty of light, but one could neither see in nor out. She rather thought he was using it as an excuse not to look her way.

“I only just found out myself—I mean…” she floundered as he turned to give her a studious look.

“You mean to tell me you had… not a clue that Adrien is the father?” Mr. Agreste seemed partly amused, partly perturbed by the concept.

“I…” she frowned. “I didn’t know, not really.”

Mr. Agrete’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “I find that hard to believe.”

“I assure you,” she said. “I assure you, Mr. Agreste, I really didn’t know…” she trailed off, “Neither did Adrien.”

“I see.” Mr. Agreste adopted a wry look.

Marinette realized his thoughts. “That’s right,” she said, pretending to confirm his theory. “There was this party… and… it must have happened then. We were both pretty drunk…” she winced, hating lying. But she was good at that, wasn’t she? Good at lying to everyone about everything?

“I see,” Mr. Agreste said again.

“Thank you, for… you know, getting me this room—hold on, how do _you_ know that Adrien is the father?” Marinette asked, frowning suddenly as she realized what Mr. Agreste had said before.

“That is inconsequential,” Mr. Agreste said. “The matter of the fact is, he _is_ the father. And they _are_ my grandchildren.”

‘That’s… true,” she said slowly. She still wanted to know how Mr. Agreste knew. Did he end up doing a paternity test? But how? She never consented to that… and such a thing would be illegal in France… unless he had the tests done in another country. Like Spain. But still… she shivered slightly.

“What are _you_ doing here?”

Both Marinette and Mr. Agreste turned towards the door, to see Adrien standing there, a cup in his hand and a ball of cheese in the other. He was glaring at his father, a furious look on his face.

“I beg your pardon?” Mr. Agreste replied evenly. “I cannot visit the mother of my grandchildren?”

Adrien narrowed his eyes.

“Hold on, Adrien,” Marinette said, putting her hands up in some kind of separation of the two. “It’s okay—he’s just here to visit me.”

“How little you know me,” Mr. Agreste said, “That you think I would put Marinette and my _grandchildren_ in danger.”

Adrien still glowered at his father, but walked into the room, handing the cup of ice chips to Marinette. He stood by the side of the bed, looking ready for a fight. Marintte watched this exchange with a startled and worried look. Adrien had often struggled with his relationship with his father, but now… it seemed downright hostile.

“What’s going on?” Marinette asked. “Why are you—”

“He knows, Marinette, that I’m the father,” Adrien said, glaring at him.

“What? Yes, I know,” Marinette replied.

Adrien turned to stare at her. “You know?”

“He just told me.”

Adrien’s head whipped towards his father, who had a slight, benign smile on his face. A kind of smirk, more like. “I see,” Adrien said carefully. “And did he tell you that he’s known longer than I have?”

“Yes, I mean, I presumed…” Marinette said, feeling a little flustered. “I just—oh!” she gripped the sides of the bed, squeezing her eyes shut in pain as another wave of contractions hit her.

“Marinette? Are you okay?” Adrien leaned over worriedly, fretting.

“I’m… fine…” Marinette said through clenched teeth. She gave Adrien a pointed look. “I’ve… you know, had my fair share of getting…” she glanced at Mr. Agreste, wondering what had possessed her to forget he was in the room. Perhaps it was the indescribable pain in her lower region. “Right,” she said, as the contractions began to ebb away. She looked pointedly between Adrien and Mr. Agreste. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Agreste, I’d like a moment alone with Adrien.”

Mr. Agreste nodded, and left without another word.

Adrien and Marinette watched him go. “Do you think he knows?” Marinette asked. “About… you know.”

“What?” Adrien asked. “That you and I are… _them?”_ He shook his head. “I doubt it. If he did know, it would dramatically change how he acted. He would probably lock me up forever and forbid me from ever doing anything remotely reckless again.”

“That’s probably true,” Plagg noted, and Tikki peeked out from behind Marinette’s pillow.

“Are you okay, Marinette?” Tikki asked, gazing up at her with concern etched upon her tiny face.

“I’m fine,” Marinette said. “The contractions aren’t as bad as getting beaten up as…” she trailed off again. “Adrien?” she asked, looking at him. “Your father knows that you’re the father of the twins but… what are we going to tell everyone else?”

Adrien frowned. “That’s… I had thought about it before, but not really—I guess I hadn’t,” he said, looking stumped. “I mean, I guess that’s why I never told you, I figured… well, part of the reason, anyway—”

“Adrien,” Marinette interrupted, “We need to figure this out. After all, people are going to start showing up, and asking questions. I don’t want to keep things hidden anymore—“ Tiki and and Plagg cleared their throats, “—I mean, the obvious besides. I don’t want to keep _us_ hidden anymore. I want to come out with the truth about us and… and the fact that we’re both about to be parents.”

Adrien nodded, before frowning, “How are we going to explain—”

The door to the room swung open with a bang, and a nurse could be heard shouting a warning, as Nino and Alya burst into the room.

 

* * *

 

“Nino,” Adrien said, surprised, the same moment that Marinette said Alya’s name in shock.

“What are you doing here?” Marinette asked, surprised.

Alya and Nino glanced at each other, confusion on their faces. “What do you mean, what are we doing here?” Alya demanded, taking out her phone and brandishing it for all of them to see. “You sent me a text: “in labor” and haven’t responded to any of my frantic—I repeat— _frantic_ , texts back.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, feeling a little abashed. “I guess I don’t have good reception in here.”

“Oh really? Like _that’s_ an excuse,” Alya said bitingly, walking forward and pushing Adrien out of the way, drawing Marinette into a hug. “Look, Marinette, we went to lamaze classes together. You don’t get mistaken as lesbian lovers and then don’t give the full details when you’re going into labor.”

“That’s… really specific reasoning,” Marinette managed to say, before Adrien, fretting, pulling her out of Alya’s arms.

“So, you beat us here, did you?” Nino asked, nodding to Adrien, walking up. He held a bouquet of flowers and balloons. “How you holding up, Mari?”

“I’m…” another contraction hit her. “Oh gosh, these are really painful,” she muttered.

“Are you okay?” Alya and Adrien said at the same time. Surprised, they turned to give each other a glare.

“Excuse me, but mistaken lesbian lover and best friend trumps inconsequential normal friend _every time,”_ Alya said.

Adrien opened his mouth angrily, but Marinette stopped him. “Alya, Nino, we have something to tell you.”

Alya and Nino glanced at each other, realization dawning on both of their faces at the same time.

They turned back to Marinette and Adrien, their eyes wide as disbelief comically distorted their faces. As both of them opened their mouths to verbally react, the door opened again, and Marinette’s parents rushed into the room.

“Marinette!” her mother said, reaching the bedside and grasping Marinette’s hands. “We just got your message and came as soon as we could. How are you feeling? I brought some snacks… and some tea…”

“Oh good,” Nino said, still pale with shock, taking an eclair from Marinette’s father, who gave him a perturbed look. “Thanks, Mr. Dupain.”

“Uh, thanks Mom, Dad,” Marinette said. “So…” she drummed her fingers on the bed, glancing at the many faces around her.

“So…” her mother prompted. “How often are your contractions?”

“About every two to three minutes,” Marinette said. As if to prove her point, another wave of contractions hit her. “Damn…” she muttered, as her mother rubbed her back.

“I’m glad you three are here,” her father said. “I’m glad Marinette has her friends with her at a time like this.”

Nino and Alya glanced at each other, then at Adrien, who gave Marinette’s father a tight smile. “Right,” Adrien said. “Well, I think I’ll go… get a sandwich from the cafeteria—not that your baked goods aren’t exactly what I’d like to eat I just… need to…” he made a feeble escape, and soon, Alya and Nino were excusing themselves, hurrying after him.

“What happened to them?” her father asked, looking confused.

“Marinette,” her mother said, grasping her hands again. “How are you feeling? Are you okay? Do we need to get you a nurse?”

“Relax, Sabine,” her father said. “Marinette is a tough girl, I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“Oh really? When was the last time _you_ gave birth?” her mother retorted, before returning to Marinette. “A back rub? Do you need the nurse? Do you need some water?”

“Uh, I’m fine, thanks,” Marinette said. “I kind of wish I could walk around, but the doctors told me to relax…”

“Right,” her mother said, nodding. “That’s probably for the best.”

“For now, I’d just like to… uh… relax,” Marinette ended lamely, wishing she could have gone with the others so she could help smooth things over. Poor Adrien, needing to put out the fires by himself. “So… perhaps you can choose a channel to watch on TV?”

Her parents smiled at her, before complying with the task.

* * *

 

They finally caught up to him as he rounded a corner. Nino grabbed him by the arm, shaking him slightly. “She’s—you—they—the twins—you— _Marinette—”_

“Calm down, Nino,” Alya said, pulling Nino off of Adrien. She rounded on the blonde man. “ _What the_ hell _, man!”_

“Keep your voices down,” Adrien hissed, “I haven’t told everyone. I mean, _we_ , haven’t told everyone.”

“Yeah, no kidding!” Alya said. “She’s about to give birth and you’ve literally not told anyone! Not us—not me, not Nino, and I’m guessing not even her _parents.”_ She gave Adrien an annoyed smack on the arm.

“Well, to be fair, I only found out at Christmas,” Adrien muttered, rubbing his arm dejectedly.

“What?” they both chorused.

“Yeah, so… It’s not really my fault. And Marinette only found out a little while ago. And… well. And we only found out we both _know_ like… a few hours ago,” he finished.

“ _What?”_

They both stared at him as if he grew three extra noses. “I’m serious,” he said.

“But man, dude, my bro…” Nino said slowly. “Your mystery woman—the woman you’ve been in love with since you were fifteen… that’s pregnant with your child… what about her?”

Alya looked at Nino in shock, before rounding on Adrien. “You knocked up Marinette _and_ some bimbo?” she demanded

Adrien looked at both of them, flinching in anticipation of their outbursts. “No,” he said, finally. “Same person.”

“What?!” Nino’s eyes widened. “But Dude, you _remember_ sleeping with the woman. How could you have not noticed that it was Marinette? Also… what the _hell_ man!”

“Calm down, and lower your voices,” Adrien said. “I’ll explain everything later—”

“No,” Alya said, crossing her arms. “We deserve an answer, Adrien. We’re friends. Friends don’t keep secrets like this from each other. Now, I’m pissed at Marinette too, and we deserve answers from her as well, but she’s about to push two babies out of herself so I’m going to give her at least a day or two before I give her hell too.”

Alya heaved a breath. “Out with it, Adrien. Answers. Now. _Right_ _now.”_

 _“Yeah,_ Man, answers. Like yesterday,” Nino said, a deeply hurt look on his face.

“More like, answers nine months ago,” Alya muttered.

“Okay, okay,” Adrien said, sighing. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening. “Let’s go inside a utility closet,” he said. “That way no one can overhear us.”

“Fine,” his friends agreed, though they both looked hesitant and confused as they followed him down a hall and into a closet.

“Okay,” Alya said. “Answers. Now.”

“Okay, okay,” Adrien repeated. “I… I don’t know how to tell you this… but the woman that I fell in love with at the age of fifteen, and Marinette… are the same person. I just didn’t know until this Christmas.”

“How the _hell_ does _that_ factor out?” Alya demanded.

“Because,” Adrien said, closing his eyes and heaving a breath. _Please don’t hate me, Plagg, Tikki, and Marinette,_ he thought desperately. He could feel Plagg shifting in his sweater, sensing where this conversation was going. “Because,” Adrien said. “I’m Chat Noir. And Marinette is Ladybug.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TO BE CONTINUED…


	15. Chapter 15

 

 

Nino and Alya stared at him, utter shock etched upon their faces. Then Alya laughed. “Impossible,” she said. “That’s really… _Impossible_.”

“I’m serious,” Adrien said. He could feel Plagg pinching him through his shirt. He ignored him. “It’s true. I’m Chat Noir.”

They continued to stare at him. He heaved a breath, “I can prove it to you—”

There was a slight shuffle outside, and they all froze, turning to gaze stupidly at the door. Adrien stepped forward, grasping the handle and pulling it open, and peered out. No one was there. “Odd,” he said. “I could have sworn I heard someone standing outside—”

“Adrien!” he felt a hand grab the back of his sweater and pull him around, Nino looking at him with a horrified expression. “You’re—Chat Noir?”

“A little louder,” Adrien hissed. “I think people in Canada didn’t quite hear you.”

Nino stared at him, before Alya closed the closet door. “Adrien,” she said. “Are you serious? You’re really Chat Noir? And Marinette is Ladybug?”

“I am,” he said. “She is.”

“Why the _hell_ didn’t you ever say anything?” Nino demanded. “And why aren’t you as pissed that Marinette didn’t tell _you,_ Alya?”

“Because,” Alya said, staring at the far wall with a somewhat blank expression. “Because if we’re being honest, I’m Vixen.”

* * *

 

“Where is he?” Marinette asked. “I mean… why isn’t he back already? And where are Nino and Alya?”

“I’m not sure, sweetie,” her dad said. “I’ll go look for them.”

Marinette nodded, and her dad left. Marinette heaved a breath, before turning to her mom, “Mom, I’ve got something to tell you.”

“What’s that?” her mom asked.

“You have to promise not to tell anyone, not yet anyway. It’s about the father.”

“I knew this was going to come up,” her mother sighed. “And I’m glad you’re being responsible. What’s his number? I’ll call him and tell him to come—”

“That’s not it, I mean, yes—no, I mean,” she sighed. “Okay, the truth is, the _father_ is…”

The door to her room swung open, and a figure stepped in.

“Oh, not you!” Marinette groaned, glaring as Chloe stepped into the room. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“Come on, Mari _nette_ ,” Chloe crooned. “I need to get a good pic of _this_.” She lifted up her phone and took a photo, Sabrina peering around from behind her.

“Hello Marinette!” Sabrina said, waiving energetically. “We wanted to see how you were doing!”

“Yes,” Chloe said, sounding bored. “I wanted to hear your _wails_ of pain.”

“She’s lying, of course,” Sabrina said, smiling brightly.

Chloe and Sabrina turned around to look at something, and Chloe made a squeal and wrapped her arms around Adrien’s neck. “How are you, Lovey-doo?” she said loudly. He attempted to untangle himself from her, but she clung on with the strength almost not possible for someone of her frame. Marinette clenched her teeth in both pain and annoyance.

“Chloe, you’re _engaged,”_ Adrien spluttered, finally managing to get her away from him.

“Exactly,” Chloe crooned, “Wedding date isn’t for another three weeks so…”

“The answer is still no,” Adrien said drily. “Anyway, I’m with Marinette now.”

The room hushed, and everyone turned to stare at Adrien.

“You are?” Chloe asked, her face distorting in shock

“You are?” Marinette asked, a little breathlessly.

“Hell _yeah,_ you are!” Nino said, clapping his hands on Adrien’s back.

“But—But—” Chloe spluttered. “But she’s _pregnant._ With someone else’s kid.”

“No, she’s not,” Adrien said, sounding tired.

“Adrien…” Marinette said quietly. “Perhaps this is not the right time or place to…”

“No, Marinette, I think it’s the perfect time to. The twins? I’m the father.”

For a second time, everyone in the room gasped.

After a few stunned moments of silence, the door opened and Marinette’s father stepped in. “I couldn’t find Adrien or the others but I _did_ find the cafeteria, so I bought some snacks—” he stopped. “There you are, Adrien, where were you? Oh, it’s…” he looked around, confused at the tense silence. “What’s going on?”

“All at once, everyone started to speak. “Alright!” Marinette cut in over the din. “Everyone: out! I need to speak to Adrien alone.”

She was aware of Nino giving Adrien a ‘uh-oh’ look, before he and Alya slipped out the door.

“ _What_ is going on?” Marinette’s father asked as her mother took his hand and led him out of the door.

The last to leave was Chloe and Sabrina. “I don’t _get_ it,” Chloe said. “ _Her?_ _Seriously?_ I thought you guys had sworn you _weren’t_ the father?”

“Chloe,” Adrien said softly, “Time to go.”

She made a face, but Sabrina took her arm and pulled her from the room.

Marinette let out a breathe of relief, before saying, tentatively, “Did you mean what you said?”

“About what?” he asked, still watching the door, as if he expected someone to barge in.

“About… us being together,” she said.

He looked at her. “I mean, did I say it mostly to be able to get Chloe off my physical body? Yes.”

“Oh,” she said softly.

“I probably shouldn’t have said it,” he said, looking at his hands. “I overstepped my boundaries, I’m sorry.”

“No!” she said hurriedly. “I… I really want to be with you, Adrien.”

“Do you?” he asked, searching her eyes with his. “Do you really?”

She nodded. “I… I was really selfish, these past nine months. I’m sorry. I’m…” she felt tears fill her eyes, “I’m so, so sorry, Adrien. I put you through so much, and it wasn’t even worth it… It was the opposite… we could have… we could have been together all this time and _really_ started our family and—”

Adrien walked towards her, sitting on the bed and pulling her into a hug. “It’s okay,” he whispered to the top of her head. “It’s okay, Marinette.”

“No, it’s not,” she hiccuped.

“No… no it’s not,” he agreed reluctantly. “But I forgive you. If you forgive how much of an ass I’ve been lately.”

“If you forgive how much of an ass _I’ve_ been,” she responded, before feeling another set of contractions ripple through her. With a slight groan, she automatically tensed.

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked, looking at her in concern.

“I’m fine,” she said. “It’s just a contraction. Trust me, I’ll need to be able to hold my ground when the labor starts.”

“I didn’t realize you already had experience with labor,” he joked.

“You know what I mean,” she said, easing into his hug again as the contraction subsided. “The nurse says it’s going to be quite a few hours.”

“They’re gone?” Tikki asked, peeking out from behind the bed.

“Oh,” Marinette drew away form Adrien, looking over at Tikki. “There you are—Yes, they’re gone.”

Marinette gave a small yelp as Plagg flew out from Adrien’s sweater, and zoomed by her face, sitting next to Tikki. “Thanks a _lot,_ Mate,” Plagg said, glaring at Adrien. “I thought I was going to suffocate when you two hugged.”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Tikki said, swatting at his arm.

“But really, the clincher is, _are_ you going to tell Marinette what you told Alya and Nino?” Plagg asked.

“Alya? Nino? Oh my god!” Marinette said, sitting up straighter, “What is Alya going to say? She’s… she’s going to be so hurt… How do I explain that I didn’t even know it was _you?”_

“Eh,” Adrien began, rubbing at the back of his head awkwardly.

“What is it?” Marinette asked him.

“You look like you’re walking to your death,” Tikki said, frowning.

Adrien winced slightly. “I already explained that I’m the father—while we were out of the room.”

Marinette settled back onto her pillows. “Where they very shocked?”

“Oh, they were shocked…” Adrien said. “But… I explained how we didn’t know.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, quietly. “What did you tell them?”

Adrien winced again, looking at the clouded window with an expression of dread on his face. “I, uh… told the, uh…” He turned to look at Marinette. “I told them the truth. About us. About us being… Chat Noir and Ladybug.”

Tikki gasped. Plagg harrumphed. Marientte stared at Adrien, and it was as if the man had grown two heads, because suddenly he seemed unrecognizable. “Why would you _do_ that?” she demanded, her voice a cross between hoarse and high pitched. She took a few steadying breaths, before closing her eyes, and opening them again. “Adrien…” she said. “Why would you do that?”

“Because they’re our friends and they deserve to know! Besides, Alya is…” he trailed off, “I’ll let her explain. But I’m _sick_ of pretending to everyone. Yes, it’s probably not good for the public to know the truth about us, but Alya and Nino are our best friends! And they deserve nothing less than the truth. I mean, look at what keeping the truth from _you and me_ have done. What we lost? Weren’t you _just_ saying it wasn’t worth it?”

She blinked at him, and slowly nodded. “Yeah,” she said, nodding slowly. “Yeah, that’s—”

There was a knock at the door, as it opened, and someone stepped through. “Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Gabriel Agreste said, smiling at her, “I brought you something for your back—this pillow is supposed to be the best in homeopathic chiropractics.”

Marinette felt the blood drain from her cheeks. “Mr. Agreste,” she said, feeling her heart rate quicken. How much did he hear, if anything at all? Did he hear them talk about… “Thank you,” she said, as he handed her the pillow. “That is… very appreciated.”

“Yes, thank you…” Adrien said slowly. “How long were you standing at the door?”

“I only just arrived,” Mr. Agreste said, his expression unreadable as he turned to face Adrien. “I must go, however—Nathalie has informed me that there is something urgent that requires my attention. I will return,” he said, smiling at Marinette, “When the twins are born, if I am able to get away.”

He turned and walked from the room.

“See?” Adrien said. “The man barely acknowledges that I’m even in the room. And leaving on a business matter when his grandchildren are being born? What kind of bullshit reasons is—”

Another contraction hit her, this one worse than the others. “Oh…” she said, eyes squeezed shut. “Adrien… Will you get a nurse?”

* * *

 

Dr. Borde walked into the room, donning her gloves. “How are we doing this evening?” she asked. “Nine hours since your water broke—you’re lucky, Miss Dupain-Cheng, you’re having a relatively quick labor.”

“Doesn’t… Feel… _Quick,”_ Marinette said.

Dr. Borde smiled at her. “I’m just going to—oh, hello, who are you?” she asked, looking at Adrien with mild curiosity.

“I’m the father,” Adrien said.

“The—I see,” Dr. Borde said. “And are you well aquatinted with birth etiquette?”

“Not to swear while the babies are being born?” Adrien guessed, half jokingly.

Dr. Borde cracked a smile at him. “No,” she said. “I’m guessing you didn’t go to any lamaze classes.”

“No, I… I wasn’t allowed to,” Adrien said.

“Let’s not point… fingers,” Marinette gritted out, “While I’m laying here with my—”

“Just hold her hand,” Dr. Borde said, “And help her breathe, alright? You’re both doing fine.”

Adrien nodded, turning to face Marinette, and took her hand. Immediately, she started squeezing it, and he bit back a groan of pain. Marinette was strong, even when she _wasn’t_ Ladybug. Dr. Borde sat down on the stool at Marientte’s feet, and Marinette winced slightly. “Okay… Eight centimeters… it won’t be long now,” she told one of the attendants.

She nodded. She squeezed Adrien’s hand again. “Adrien?”

“Yeah?”

“I…” she began, but a nurse came back.

“Here,” he said, “I’m going to give you a saline solution—we need to keep you hydrated.”

She nodded again, and he worked to start setting that up. Adrien watched worriedly, and waited for Marinette to continue the conversation, but she didn’t clarify what she was going to tell him. Instead, she focused on her breathing, and he sat there, stroking her hand, and wiping her brow when she needed him to, before Dr. Borde came back to examine how Marientet was doing, and told her to start pushing.

* * *

 

She was the most beautiful being he had ever seen. Her face was screwed up in a furious expression, with beet reddish-purple skin, and soft, wispy dark brown hair with a large bald patch at the top, but she was perfect. Smaller than he had imagined, but perfect. He rocked her side by side, holding her close to him.

“Hey…” he whispered, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Can I see her?” Marinette croaked out after a particularly hard push, “Or is your lazy ass just going to stand there all day and keep my daughter from me?”

He looked over his shoulder and grinned at her, before walking over, bending over and presenting their daughter.

“Oh…” Marinette breathed. “She’s so beautiful…”

“I know,” Adrien agreed.

“Marinette, I need you to keep pushing, this will be over soon, but I need you to keep pushing,” Dr. Borde reminded her.

One of the nurses came and took the baby girl from Adrien, and he watching worriedly as she was carried away, before turning back to Marinette. “Where are they taking her?” Marinette asked, watching with a stricken expression.

“They’re just going to take her someplace while Thomas is being born,” he told her, taking her hand. “She’ll be back.”

She nodded, breathing in heavy pants, and squeezed his hand painfully as she pushed. It took another ten minutes, but soon a baby’s wail was heard, and he was whisked away to be cleaned up. It wasn’t until after the placenta was birthed, and Marinette cleaned up, that she was instructed to relax.

In all his years of knowing her, Marinette _and_ Ladybug, he had never seen her looking so exhausted. He stroked her brow, and was about to say something, when Dr. Borde and the nurse entered the room, each carrying a baby. “Now,” Dr. Borde said, handing the Thomas to Marinette, and the girl to Adrien, “I can let your family in now, or I can wait a little while, if you’d rather have some time alone.”

“Some time alone, I think,” Marinette said.

Adrien nodded.

“Alright then,” Dr. Borde said. “Why don’t we try breastfeeding. I’d like both babies to get used to it now, before they fall asleep.”

Marinette nodded, as the nurse left and Dr. Borde instructed Marinette on what to do. Adrien watched, fascinated, until both infants had their fill and had fallen into a deep sleep. Dr. Borde left, telling Marinette they would move her in about an hour to a recovery room.

“They’re so… perfect,” Adrien said. “And so are you, Marinette.”

She gave a soft, exhausted laugh. “I feel gross, to be honest. I kind of want a shower.”

“You look gorgeous,” he said.

She took to give him an austere look.

“I’m serious!” he protested. “I mean… Okay, you’ve done some pretty _badass_ stuff in your life, but this? This was the most badass out of all of them.”

“So much for not swearing in front of the babies,” Marinette chuckled. “But thank you. You know… it did feel kind of badass, in hindsight.”

Adrien nodded. “Thank you,” he said, looking at her. “I felt like such chum, doing nothing while you were going through all that. I guess I didn’t… _really get_ what it meant for you to be pregnant. It’s not really fair that I wasn’t able to share the burden.”

“I… I know,” she said softly. “And I’m so sorry, Adrien. I wish I had just been brave and told you the truth to begin with—”

“I meant, with the actual pregnancy,” he corrected quickly. “I didn’t mean to sound passive aggressive.”

“Let me _finish,”_ Marinette said, gently. “I should have let you in. I should have been honest. We could have saved so much grief, and gone so much farther than we are now, if we had just been _honest_ with each other. So… I’m sorry, Adrien. I really messed things up.”

He heaved a breath, and said, “It’s alright Marinette. After tonight, you have nothing to apologize for. That being said,” he continued, his tone changing, “I think we should set some ground rules.”

“Ground rules?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “We have to be honest with each other.”

She nodded, smiling at him.

“And,” he continued, “I love you, Marinette.”

She blinked. Then she laughed. “Damn it,” she said, her body shaking as her laughter grew, “ _I_ wanted to be the one to say it first!”

* * *

 

“Hey…” Alya said, peeking around the door. “Can we come in now?”

“Yes…” Marinette whispered back, beckoning. “Come see them.”

“Oh!” Marinette’s mother stepped in after Alya, her father walking in as well, tears threatening his eyes. “Oh, Marinette… they’re so beautiful…” As Marinette handed Thomas to her parents, Adrien reluctantly handed the girl to Alya and Nino.

“Hey my new favorite lil’ bitch,” Alya whispered to her. “I’m your godbitch and I’m going to be your favorite person in the world.”

“What the _hell?”_ Nino said, smacking Alya lightly on the shoulder in mock indignation. “ _Her favorite person in the world?_ Did you forget _I_ exist?”

“Nope,” Alya said, turning away from Nino, who protested loudly at the baby leaving his line of vision. Adrien quickly followed, himself protesting their ‘dangerous movements’ while holding his daughter.

“Thomas for the boy,” her parents said. “What about the girl? Have you two discussed a name for her yet?”

“Uh, no,” Marinette said slowly. “But… I was actually thinking of… Noémie.”

Adrien froze, looking over his should to stare at her. “What?” he asked, his voice a little hollow.

“Noémie,” she said. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” Adrien said, turning around to look at her fully. “It was my mom’s name.”

Marinette blinked in surprise. “Was it?” she asked. “I… I mean, now that you mention it, it did seem familiar, you just never really mentioned your mom’s name that often, so I… forgot.”

“Then how did you pick it?” Adrien asked.

“Your father suggested it,” Marinette said.

He looked at her in surprise, before taking a shuddering breath. “My _father_ suggested it?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in shock. “I didn’t… I didn’t realize he was that… nostalgic.”

“Well, do you like it? The name. For the baby,” Marinette clarified. “Is it okay if we name her after your mother?”

Adrien paused, and then took the baby from Nino’s arms. “Noémie is a perfect name for her,” he said.

“Oh good,” Marinette sighed in relief. “I’m so glad.”

She watched as Adrien looked down at Noémie and smiled, and whispered her name. Yes, she thought, it was a good choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TO BE CONTINUED...
> 
> Next chapter is the last!!


	16. Chapter 16

“They’re so… so… _stinky…”_ Plagg complained, plugging his nose with a tiny paw.

“You eat camembert every day and _they’re_ the stinking ones?” Adrien demanded, as he carried up the baby basket with Thomas in it.

“My camembert doesn’t smell like—”

“I, for one, think their little poops smell wonderful,” Marinette said as she ascended the steps.

Plagg rolled his eyes. “You’ll change your mind real quick about that,” he muttered.

Marinette grinned at him, before looking down at the baby in her own basket. She was sound asleep, which Marinette hoped would last until their next feeding. She hadn’t been able to rest properly in the hospital, and now that she was back home, she wanted to lay down and sleep for a week. Maybe two.

She unlocked her door, and stepped into the room, looking around and stopping in the doorframe, sighing in relief. She entered to make room for Adrien and place Noémie’s basket on the floor in the living room. “Oh, it feels so good to be back,” she said. She sighed again, exhaustion overcoming her. “Mind if I go lay down for a bit?”

“Of course not,” Adrien replied. “I might join you… we should get them used to their cribs.”

“Right,” Marinette agreed, nodding.

Once the twins were situatied, and it became clear that they were not going to wake anytime soon, Marinette undressed. She stared at her reflection, frowning in dismay at what she saw.

“What is it?” Adrien asked. She could see him looking at her, and shivered, disliking him looking at her when she looked like _this._

“I knew I would still kind of look pregnant for a while after they were born, but… I kind of wish I didn’t look like complete crap right now. Especially since _you_ look as… perfect as ever.”

“Hey,” Adrien said, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms gingerly around her. He kissed her neck. “You know, you would look perfect to me no matter what size, shape, or _whateve_ r you are. The fact that you just _went through crap_ to make me a father?” he shook his head in disbelief, “I honestly can’t even fathom you looking anything _but_ perfect right now.”

Her lips quirked in the start of a smile, but she forced a frown and swatted him away. “Easy for you to say,” she said. “You didn’t push out two six pound babies out of yourself.”

He laughed, and began undressing as well. She watched him, unabashed, not having seen him without clothes on in the light. “It’s kind of… upsetting,” she began, before laughing at the surprised look on Adrien’s face. “I’m sorry, that was ill timed,” she chuckled. “I meant, I can’t really…” she shrugged, heading for the bathroom. She needed a shower, desperately. “Do stuff right now. Not in the traditional sense. I’m like… frickin’ obliterated down there.”

“Oh,” Adrien said, frowning. “That’s fine,” he said. “We don’t have to do _anything_ until you’re ready.”

She paused at the door, and turned to look at him, “Thanks,”she said. “Same goes for you.”

They smiled at each other, before she slipped into the bathroom, and he waited in her bedroom with the twins.

* * *

 

A shower felt good. Being well cleaned felt good. The hot water against her skin felt good, even if, after she dried off, she realized how prominent her stretch marks were. Scowling, she put on her bathrobe, and walked back into her bedroom, to find that Thomas and Noémie were still sleeping, but Adrien was laying on the bed, fast asleep as well. He, of course, didn’t need an urgent shower, having gone home for a few hours earlier that day to get things ready. He had protested, claiming he wanted only to leave when Marinette did, but they convinced him to get some rest, and to bathe.

She slipped into bed, wincing in pain, and let out a small curse. Adrien sat up, in a sort of ready stance, before taking a deep breath and looking at her in surprise. “Oh,” he said. “It’s just… Oh…” he lay back down.

“Do you do that too?” she asked. “Wake up thinking you have to go into a fight?”

“Yeah…” he said, nodding.

“I used to,” she said. “But I started less and less when the option began to be less and less _of_ an option. I’m going to have to relearn it.”

“To be honest,” Adrien said. “I’m jealous of people who _don’t_ always have to be on guard. Or be fighting stuff.”

She nodded. “Now I am, too,” she said. She moved closer to him, wincing again as her inner thighs rubbed together. Adrien quickly came to her aide, helping her get into a comfortable position. Soon, she felt relatively comfortable, for the first time in days. “But I wouldn’t give up being Ladybug.”

“No, I wouldn’t give up being Chat Noir,” he agreed.

“Good,” Plagg yawned from the bedpost. “Because I’d rather not have to find a new miraculous holder.”

“I love you too, Plagg,” Adrien chortled.

“And I love _you,_ Marinette,” Tikki said, flying over from the cribs, where she had been keeping watch. “I’m so proud of you—I can’t believe you did all that! Of course, I’ve had other holders who gave birth… but… it _always_ takes me by surprise whenever it happens.”

“It’s a whole messy affair,” Plagg sniffed.

“Oh, is that why you are crying after they were born?” Adrien asked. “And why you keep watching them like a mamma cat?”

Plagg yawned. “Got any camembert?” he asked, “I’m starving. In case you didn’t notice, I haven’t eaten properly since before we went to the hospital. I had to make due with _cheddar._ ” He made a disgusted face.

“Oh, you big baby,” Tikki said, laughing.

“I actually agree with him,” Marinette said. “It is a messy affair. I _still_ feel messy after all that. And…I’m pretty hungry.”

Adrien shifted slightly. “Want me to go get you something—”

“No,” she whispered, pulling him closer. “I want you here just like this.”

* * *

 

She adjusted her position on the couch. “I honestly feel like I’m being spoiled,” she laughed, as Adrien brought her a tray of food and some kind of tea that her mother _insisted_ on her drinking with every meal.

“Good,” he answered. He put the tray down on her lap and walked over to where Thomas and Noémie were laying in the portable crib set up in Marinette’s living room. She watched him as he looked down at them, and smiled into her teacup.

“Adrien?” she ventured.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He hummed a response, and turned, a troubled look on his face.

“What is it?” she asked, frowning in surprise.

“How… is this all going to work?” Adrien asked. “I mean, pretty much everyone and their fifth cousin knows I’m the father now… but how are we going to handle being parents _and_ Ladybug and Chat Noir?”

“That’s a good question,” Tikki said, peeking her head out from under the blanket covering Marinette.

“Find a good nanny,” Plagg suggested.

“I was hoping _Adrien_ would be my nanny,” Marinette confessed—obviously that is… not going to happen anymore.”

“Trust me,” Adrien said, sitting down in a chair, “I wish I could spend all day with them. But I need to find a job, and… we probably do need a nanny. Someone with a lot of free time. Someone… who knows our situation…”

Marinette gazed at him. “Alya?” she asked.

Adrien’s eye twitched slightly, and he looked away, a look on his face that told Marinette he wasn’t being honest about something. “What is it?” she prompted. “What _about_ Alya?”

“It can’t be Alya,” Adrien said. “Cause she works too much.”

“So…” Marinette said slowly. “You mean—you can’t mean—you don’t—you do?—but no… that’s not… he’d be— _Nino?”_

“He’s not bad with kids!” Adrien protested.

Marinette stared at him.

“I trust him,” Adrien said stubbornly.

“I trust him _too,”_ Marinette said, defensively. “But I’m just not sure I trust him to be a responsible _caretaker_. For children. Infants. _Newborns.”_

They stared long and hard at each other, before Marinette finally sighed. “Okay, fine, we’ll… let’s _offer_ to him. But why can’t Alya do it? I mean, besides the fact that she’s too busy?”

Adrien paused, and that look of hesitation crossed over his face again.

“What is it?” Marinette asked, frowning as well.

“It’s just,” Adrien began. “It’s not my secret to tell. _She_ needs to be the one to tell you.”

Marinette’s frown deepened. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Let’s have them over for dinner, and we can broach the subject with them. The _nanny_ position,” she elaborated, when Adrien gave her a warning look.

Adrien nodded, turning and walked over to where the portable crib was.

“ _Yeah right,”_ Marinette muttered under her breath. _Alya had a secret? A secret that_ ** _Adrien_** _knew about but she, her best friend, didn’t?_

_There’s no way in hell._

* * *

 

“You know, I gotta say, for someone who just gave birth, got a boyfriend, and became a mother all in one day… You look pretty good,” Alya said, winking at Marinette.

“It’s been a rather convoluted journey,” Adrien laughed. “But we’re together now, and everything is—” he stopped, his head whipping towards the baby monitor.

“They’re fine,” Marinette said, smiling at him.

“I know, I know,” Adrien sighed. “I just get nervous.”

“You get nervous when there’s noises—and you get nervous when there’s none,” Marinette laughed. “ _They’re_ fine. They’re sleeping. Nothing is going to happen to them. But from now on, please don’t answer ‘everything is fine’, when it comes to the whole _giving birth_ thing. It’s not fine,” she told Nino and Alya. “My nethers are absolutely destroyed.”

“T.M.I,” Nino shuddered. “Did _not_ need to know that.”

“Alya,” Marinette said, looking at her friend, “Do you think we could hang out tomorrow? Somewhere outside the apartment? I haven’t been able to leave much due to the twins, and finishing up this department job… I need a girl’s night out.”

She was aware of Adrien’s eyes on her, but ignored him.

“Girl, _yes_ ,” Alya said, before taking a sip of her wine. “We haven’t really had a chance to do anything _really fun_ together—we need to _par-tay.”_

 _“_ Great!” Marinette turned to Adrien, “Think you could take care of the twins tomorrow night by yourself?”

“By myself?” Adrien frowned. “For the whole evening? I’m not sure… Nino, why don’t you come over and hang out—you can help with the twins.”

Nino blinked in surprise, and then nodded, grinning. “Sure.”

“Perfect,” Marinette said, giving Adrien a ‘I know what you’re up to’ look. “It’s settled, tomorrow night. So much will be revealed.”

“It will indeed,” Adrien answered.

Through the monitor, Marinette heard one of the twins begin to cry, and she rose to go nurse them.

* * *

 

“So…” Alya drawled. “You’re Ladybug. Funny, that.”

“What’s so funny about it?” Marinette asked, hugging her coat tighter around her.

“Nothing,” Alya said with a wry wink. “It’s just, you know, “Funny that I never knew. I mean, I spent my entire adult life, and pretty much most of my childhood, chasing you and trying to discover your secrets, and lo and behold, you were under my nose the whole time.”

“Okay, well, you can’t—I can’t—I’m sorry,” Marinette’s shoulders sagged. “I should have told you. Out of anyone, I should have been able to tell you…”

“It’s okay, Girl. Adrien didn’t tell Nino or me about being… you know,” Alya said. “And besides, there’s always the fact that I’ve been keeping a secret from _you.”_

“Really?” Marinette asked, frowning. “What’s that?”

Alya grinned, then frowned, a look of worry on her face. “I’m afraid it’s going to shock you,” she said.

“Shock me?” Troubled, Marinette’s frown deepened. “What’s gong to shock me? What’s going on? Alya… I’m worried.”

“Come on,” Alya said, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her along the path in the park. They reached a spot where a tree was blossoming, and the shrubbery greatly flourishing, making them well hidden.

 _“What_ is it? What’s going on?” Marinette demanded.

“I’m… I’m…” Alya whispered something that Marinette could not hear.

“What’s that?” Marinette asked, leaning in closer, before Alya leaned into her and whispered into her ear.

Marinette reeled, taking a step backwards, wide-eyed and stared at Alya as if she had truly grown an extra limb. “You’re… you’re—!”

“Shh!” Alya hissed, grabbing Marinette by the arm and pulled her down onto a bench. “Do you want the whole park to know? Yes. I’m Vixen. Now you know.”

“And does—oh _God._ Does Adrien know?” Marinette asked.

Alya nodded, wincing slightly.

“You’re telling me you told Adrien before you told me?” Marinette exclaimed.

“Well, to be fair, he had just told me about being, you know, _Chat Noir,”_ she whispered the name. “So it just sort of felt right. And I had to tell Nino at the same time, and… oh God, Marinette, Nino is so upset. I mean, upset that I didn’t tell him. We’ve been kind of dating for years now, and he thinks I don’t take our relationship seriously, since I never told him about this.”

“Does he think that about Adrien?” Marinette asked.

“I’m not sure,” Marinette said. “He could, I suppose. He hasn’t been talking to me as much. He’s kind of been giving me the cold shoulder.”

“That doesn’t sound like Nino…” Marinette mused. “But he does kind of… dislike when things don’t go the way he expected them too.”

“Yeah…” Alya said. “He’s kind of… you know. He thinks I don’t trust him. He thinks I think our relationship is just… some fling that we’ve been doing, but with no substance to it.”

“And he told you this?” Marinette asked, shocked.

Alya nodded. “Not quite in those words, but… he made it clear he’s not sure our relationship has a future. He definitely thinks I don’t take it seriously, or want it at all.”

“And…” Marinette said slowly, “Do you? Want it? I mean, a real relationship with him?”

Alya didn’t answer. She was watching the lights—still up since Christmas, on a tree across the path. “Yes,” she said. “I never thought me and Nino would be _it_ , you know? I mean, we’ve been dating since we were fifteen. Almost dating, I mean. We were never exclusive or boyfriend and girlfriend. We were just…”

“Doing it?” Marinette joked.

“More than just doing it, I want to think,” Alya said with a grin, before sobering. “But I do want something more. I realized it when he accused me of not…”

“Taking things seriously,” Marinette finished.

“Not taking _him_ seriously,” Alya said. “For not trusting him. For not… letting him into my life. My entire life.”

Marinette frowned. “I know what you mean,” she said, “When Adrien and I—”

“Can you just—” Alya stopped herself, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “I love you, Marinette,” she said slowly, “But for once, _I_ need to be the one with a shoulder to cry on. Okay? I need the encouragement, and cheering squad, and someone to listen to my problems.”

Marinette blinked in surprise.

“So… we can talk about you and Adrien and the whole mess that is your relationship some other time. Right now? I need my bestie to be there for _me_ for once,” Alya finished, staring at the tree with a torn look on her face.

Marinette exhaled softly, before nodding. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I… I guess I haven’t been there for _you_ as much as you’ve been there for me.”

They smiled softly at each other, before embracing. “I just need my best friend to give me some advice,” Alya said.

“Of course,” Marinette said as they separated, reaching out and grasping Alya’s hands. “Tell me everything. We’ll get this sorted out, together.”

* * *

 

“So, you and Marinette seemed a little off,” Nino said, as he finished changing Thomas’ diaper. He picked up the baby, and glanced at Adrien, who was watching him carefully. “Why are you doing that, Man? Looking at me as if I’m some kind of animal of prey? I’m not going to eat your babies.”

“How would you like to be our nanny?” Adrien asked.

Nino’s eyes widened, and Adrien perceived that he tightened his hold on Thomas slightly. “Uh, what?” he asked, blankly, quickly getting over his shock.

“How would you like to be our nanny?” Adrien asked again.

Nino stared at him. “Why? Would you want me as your nanny?”

“Well, your DJ job isn’t…” Adrien paused, deciding to tread a little more carefully. “Your DJ job isn’t really… a full-time gig _yet,_ so I was thinking this could be your day job. I’m sure Marinette and I can switch off being Ladybug or Chat Noir when it’s time for you to go be on air.”

Nino frowned. “But why me?”

“Because… well, you know our situation,” Adrien said. “And you know us, and I think you’d be really good at it.”

“Really?” Nino asked. “Wait.. Is that why you’ve been making me do stuff all evening? Like… making me change diapers and feed them and stuff?”

“Pretty much, that and it’s nice not to have to do it myself,” Adrien said, a half-smile on his face. “So what do you say?”

“What does Marinette say?” Nino asked, sitting down on the couch.

“She has her doubts,” Adrien said.

“Then she’s in the same boat as me,” Nino answered. “I mean, I love these kids already—and I’d love to be around them more. But I’m more the fun uncle type of person, not a… caregiver. I don’t know man…I can’t even handle my _own_ relationships.”

“What? With Alya?” Adrien asked. “I’ve noticed you guys have been tense ever since you found out she was Vixen. Everything okay in your department?”

“Everything is _not_ okay,” Nino said, sighing. “Look, me and Alya—Alya and I… it’s not like we’re _together_ , together, y’know? But… I always thought we kind of had a future together. But… finding out she’s been keeping this big ass secret from me… I guess I was wrong.”

“What does that have anything to do with it?” Adrien asked. “Look what Marinette and I kept from each other, and everything has turned out well enough for us.”

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of hard to compare the two—I mean, you have two kids together,” Nino pointed out. “Alya and I have nothing binding us together.”

“Do you _want_ to?” Adrien asked. “I mean, I know you like Alya—maybe even love her, but… do you even _want_ to be exclusive with her? To be her boyfriend? A steady relationship? The whole shebang?”

Nino squinted, and settled deeper into his seat. “I guess I do, kinda,” he said. “Or maybe I’m just hurt that she wasn’t honest with me about it. I mean, she never outright _lied—that much,_ at least, but… I still feel kind of hurt.”

“But would you feel hurt if you didn’t want a future with her?” Adrien asked quietly.

Nino frowned. Then stood up, eagerly, and in his arms, Thomas shifted slightly, giving out a slight cooing noise. “That’s it, man—I _do_ want a future with her.”

“That’s the spirit,” Adrien exclaimed, standing as well.

Nino placed Thomas gingerly back in the crib, before turning to Adrien. “What should I do? Should I propose?”

“I—okay, that might be a little too fast,” Adrien pointed out. “Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

“What if she confirms my, you know, worry that we’re not…?” Nino asked.

Adrien stepped up to him, grasping his arms. “Look, Man. I spend years paralyzed by that fear. I was so petrified that Marinette and Ladybug would reject me that I practically did nothing. Even when I had everything in my grasp, I did nothing until it was almost too late. And as you say it, I have _kids_ with Marinette. She can’t walk out of my life forever, because we have that connection with each other that’s not going away. So… you’ll always be friends with Alya, just tell her you want something with her that’s more substantial, more exclusive, and more… like an actual relationship, and let the cards fall as they may.”

Nino stared at him, before nodding slowly. “And if she says no? If she says she doesn’t want me that way?”

“Then know that you and her had some great times, become just friends again, and move on,” Adrien said, letting go of Nino’s arms. “I know it’ll hurt, but Alya isn’t the only fish in the sea. Not by a long shot. So… I’m not saying it won’t hurt… but it won’t be the end of the world.”

“Right…” Nino said, nodding his head. “Right!”

They froze as they heard two sets of feet going up the stairs. “ _They’re here,”_ Nino hissed, eyes wide, horrified. “What do I do?”

“What do you mean, what do you do?” Adrien hissed back. “Look, do you want to bring it up now, or do you want to—”

“Bring it up _now?”_ Nino demand, “Dude, I can’t spring this on her in front of you and Marinette, she might feel obligated to—”

The door swung open and Aly stepped in, storming over to Nino and grabbing him by the shirt. “I. Am. Sick. Of You,” she said loudly, glaring at him.

Adrien watched as Nino paled slightly.

“Of you…” Marinette whispered loudly from a few feet away. “Of you’ _re_ …Keep going, Alya…”

“Of your asinine attempts to undermine me and all the work I’ve been doing keeping Paris safe,” Alya finished, before flushing brightly. “What I mean to say is, I wouldn’t have kept this from you for any other reason than to keep you safe, and because it wasn’t my secret to tell. You see…” she took a deep breath. “I love you Nino—And… I want to be your girlfriend. So from now on, no more secrets. No more _big_ secrets, I mean,” she added.

Adrien looked at Marinette, wide eyed, and looked back at Nino, a sly grin sliding across his face. Nino stared at Alya, gobsmacked, and took in a deep breath, let out a strange sort of strangled exhale, before kissing Alya firmly on the lips.

Marinette clapped eagerly, before Nino and Alya finally separated.

“And!” Nino said. “Adrien? I’ll be your nanny.”

“Seriously?” Adrien asked excitedly.

“ _Seriously?”_ Marinette asked, dumbfounded.

“Hell yeah!” Alya said, kissing Nino again.

Adrien looked at Marinette with a triumphant look on his face, and she shrugged, smiling in defeat. “I guess I can’t say no now,” she said. “Alright, Nino. But if anything happens to my kids—“

“I’ll take good care of them,” Nino assured her.

“He will—he’s helped me with my siblings all the time when they were younger,” Alya said.

As they settled down to calm Thomas and Noémie, who had wakened and weren’t pleased with the chaos that had become Marinette’s living room, Adrien couldn’t help but feel that everything, for once in his life, was going as planned.

* * *

 

“Coming!” Marinette called, though there was no need, for whoever it was, was ringing the outer doorbell, which meant they clearly couldn’t hear her. Adrien grinned at her anyway, and continued rocking Noémie, trying to coerce her to fall back asleep. Marinette walked over to the door, and pressed the intercom, saying cheerfully, “Hello?”

“Hello, Miss Dupain-Cheng, this is Gabriel Agreste,” a voice said from the door.

Marinette froze, before turning to look at Adrien. “What do you think…” she said softly.

Adrien frowned, before nodding.

Marinette nodded, before buzzing Mr. Agreste in. She did not hear footsteps coming up the stairs, then a crisp knocking could be heard, causing her to jump in surprise. She opened the door, smiling at Mr. Agreste, who smiled back.

“Mr. Agreste,” she began.

“Please,” he interrupted, continuing to smile at her, “Call me Gabriel.”

“Ga…briel,” she said, hesitantly, glancing at Adrien. “What do we owe this surprise? Quite honestly, we’re both rather surprised that you came—after all, you haven’t seen the twins yet…at all.”

“I am ashamed that I have not been able to make an appearance,” Mr. Agreste said. “To be honest, I’ve been rather busy.” His eyes rested on Adrien’s arms, and the child in them.

“Busy?” Adrien asked, putting Noémie in the crib and walking over to Marinette and Mr. Agreste. “Too busy to visit your grandchildren?”

“Adrien…” Marinette whispered.

“No, he’s right,” Mr. Agreste said. “I have been away on a business trip—last minute emergency. Otherwise I would have been here sooner.”

“Funny, you didn’t even call,” Adrien said, narrowing his eyes and squinting at his father in distrust.

Mr. Agreste shifted his attention to Marinette. “How do you feel, Marinette?’

“How do I… feel?” she asked. “I… I’m doing nicely, I’d say. Dr. Borde says that I’m healing well and I’ll be back to normal in a few weeks.”

Adrien spoke to his father, his words cold, “Do you want to come inside? Or did you plan to just visit for this long?”

“I would love to come inside, thank you,” Mr. Agreste said. Marinette and Adrien made way for him.

“When you suggested the name Noémie to me,” Marinette said, as they all sat down in the living room, “I didn’t… realize it was Adrien’s mother’s name.”

“I thought it would be a beautiful tribute to her,” Mr. Agreste said. “As well as a use of a beautiful name.”

Marinette nodded.

“So why did you show up now?” Adrien asked. “Why now? Why not before? What was so important that you had to miss your grandchildren’s birth?”

“Nothing to worry you about,” Mr. Agreste said, not looking at his son. Instead, he focused his eyes on the crib.

“Oh!” Marinette said, standing up and walking over to it. “Here, would you like to hold them?”

“Marinette…” Adrien began.

“It’s _fine,_ Adrien,” Marinette said. “They’ll be perfectly safe,” she turned to give both men an amused look. “At least, I assume Gabriel won’t put either child in any particular danger?”

“Of course not,” Mr. Agreste said softly.

“There you go,” Marinette said. She picked up Noémie, and brought her over to Gabriel, and handed her to him. Before she could go back for Thomas, she stopped short at the look on Gabriel’s face. A softness was there—a gentleness… something she had never truly seen on the man’s face. She turned and walked back to the crib and took out Thomas, and brought him over, and helped Gabriel adjust his arms so he was holding both infants side by side.

They all sat there for a long while, watching Gabriel and the infants.

“I am proud of you, Adrien,” Gabriel said quietly.

“What?” Adrien looked surprised for a moment, unsure of what his father had just said, or if he had actually said it.

“You have done well,” Gabriel said. “Your children are beautiful, and so is… this little life you’ve created for yourself.”

Adrien frowned, and then nodded slowly. “Thanks… Father.”

Gabriel again kept his focus on the twins in his arms. Marinette watched Adrien smile softly, a strange look on his face. As if he could not believe what had just transpired. She smiled softly at him, before inviting Gabriel to join them for dinner.

* * *

 

“You ready?” Adrien asked, stepping up beside her.

She nodded, staring at herself in the mirror. She could do this…

“You can do this…” Tikki whispered, echoing her thoughts.

Marinette nodded again. “I can do this…” she said. The twins were now three months old, and her body was nearly back to normal—at least, normal enough to return to being Ladybug. “Tikki—Spots On!”

She was aware of Adrien watching her, as she transformed, but focused on the thrill of her transformation, on the feeling that it brought her, the memories, and the racing of her heart. She slowly opened her eyes, and looked in the mirror. Her mouth dropped open.

“That was incredible,” Adrien said breathlessly.

“I look… I look…” Marinette began, horror struck. She turned to the side, gazing shrewdly at her appearance. She didn’t account to the fact that spandex would hardly be able to hide the nuances added to her body due to a pregnancy with twins. “I need to work out more…” she said softly.

She felt Adrien wrap his arms around her, burrowing his face in her neck, and breathing out through his nose, tickling her in the process. “You’re perfect the way you are,” he said.

“Thanks,” she said, rolling her eyes but grinning all the same. “But I do need to work out—I’ve lost all the strength I had before…”

Adrien stepped back slightly, hands on her hips, looking over her shoulder at their reflection. “That’ll come with time,” he noted. “You’ve been out of the commission for over a year—I’d say you deserve to give yourself a break.”

Marinette nodded. “To be honest, I’m just ready to get back to being Ladybug.”

“Well,” Adrien said, “Nino’s picking up the twins after daycare—why don’t we… go for a spin? Show Paris that their beloved super-heroine is back in action? And…” he lifted her hand, rubbing her fingers with this thumb, “Afterwards… we can show everyone our own little secret.”

Both their eyes lowered to the ring on Marinette’s finger, and she bit back a grin that could not be contained as she leaned into his kiss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END.
> 
> Sorry that these last three chapters were mostly unpolished. I decided to just push out these last few chapters with no delay (and very little editing I'll admit) because I knew otherwise it would take me like... four months just to post them. I apologize for any mistakes/awkwardness in the writing that I may have missed when I read through them!
> 
> Also, I had intended for there to be a bunch left of the story but it occurred to me that those parts were completely unrelated to the main theme of the story, and it didn’t make any sense to have it in there. Plus with season 2 coming out so soon, I’d rather not write anything that will probably get immediately debunked by canon ^^”
> 
> I’m considering writing a sequel, when the twins are older, dealing more with superhero and family stuff, specifically, the whole drama with Hawkmoth, but I haven’t decided yet. Let me know if you’d be interested in something like that! :D
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Hope all of you have a great rest of your summer!


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